


Sins of the Father

by Postal_Ninja



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Belyn Hlaalu (Elder Scrolls), Childbirth, Deception, Developing Relationship, Discussion of Abortion, Dragonborn DLC (Elder Scrolls), Dragonborn is a secondary character, F/M, Female Dunmer Dovahkiin|Dragonborn, Fethis Alor (Elder Scrolls), Finding Family, Flashbacks, Garyn Ienth (Elder Scrolls), Glover Mallory (Elder Scrolls), Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Interrogation, Introspection, Memory Loss, Milore Ienth (Elder Scrolls), Neloth (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Non-Graphic Torture, Only one chapter has smut, Original Character(s), Other Characters Mentioned (Elder Scrolls), Other Characters Not Tagged Due to Spoilers (Elder Scrolls), Pregnancy, Revenge, Self-Sacrifice, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Theft, Thieves Guild, Unexpected Friendship, Viola Giordano (Elder Scrolls), comrades to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Postal_Ninja/pseuds/Postal_Ninja
Summary: The sole survivor of a shipwreck as a young boy, Rune has no memory of his parents or his home. The only clue to his identity is a small, rune-covered stone that was found in his pocket. After thirty years spent searching for answers about his past, he finally has a lead pointing him to the island of Solstheim. There, he will discover the truth at long last, though he may come to regret the answers he finds...
Relationships: Rune/Sapphire (Elder Scrolls)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lillianrill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillianrill/gifts).



> Inspired by a request made to me by Lillianrill, who wanted to see a story about some of the Thieves Guild characters who don't get as much attention in fic. I latched onto the idea of exploring Rune's origins, since it seems as if this may have originally been a quest that was cut from the game.
> 
> When I was researching members of the Thieves Guild, I noticed that, unlike a lot of the others, Rune doesn't have a particular specialty. You can't train with him for Sneaking, Lockpicking, or anything else. So I made the decision to have him be sort of a spymaster/con-man type of character. In other words, he has high perception, deception, and charisma. In game terms, he would be highly skilled in Speech.
> 
> This is my longest story yet, and I've tried breaking up the chapters into shorter chunks, as I've had a tendency to have long rambling chapters in the past. Let me know if their length makes sense. I've also experimented with using flashbacks for the first time, but more on that later.
> 
> I'm really happy with and proud of this story, so I hope many of you will enjoy it! :)

_Both hands tied tightly behind her, she struggled against her bonds, grunting with ragged breath as they held her firmly in place. If only she could get a hand free to wield her magic... but it was no use._

_A rising sense of panic assailed her, but she reminded herself of what was important: her son was safe. It didn't matter what happened to her, as long as he was alive and far away from this place._

_A masked face suddenly loomed in front of her, its harsh voice demanding; “Where is the boy?”_

_Taking hold of her courage, she sneered at her captor. “You'll never find him.”_

_The masked man seemed unfazed. “We have ways of extracting such information...” He trailed off, knowing that she was all too familiar with their interrogation methods._

_She laughed wryly, then dared to express her loathing of her captor by spitting in his face. She saw him stiffen and his fists clench angrily as the spittle slid down the glossy surface of his mask._

“ _Do your worst,” she snarled._

_**Riften, 4E 201** _

The steel blade glistened in the candlelight as it flashed through the air towards the target at the other end of the room. His aim had been spot-on, but the dagger refused to bury itself into the straw and simply dropped to the ground instead, clanking against the stone surface. Rune sighed as he went to retrieve his weapon. Rising, he ran his thumb lightly over the tip of the blade and examined its edge. Getting dull again, he concluded with a sigh. That tip was barely a point at all; no wonder it had glanced off the target. He knew it was well past the time for a replacement, but he had sent the last of his coin to Athel Newberry to fund his investigative efforts not long ago. For now, he would have to make do with putting his dagger to the grindstone yet again.

Either way, that was enough practice for today, he decided. Sheathing his blade at his hip, he made his way back to the main chamber of the Ragged Flagon's cistern, ready to spend the evening relaxing over a drink with his guild-mates. He clapped Cynric on the back as he passed the man, and waved a greeting to Vipir, who held up his mug to him in recognition. He soon spotted a new face, however. That dark elf must have been Brynjolf's new recruit; her name was Nayru Sevros, if he recalled correctly. He had heard that she was quite capable, if not the most personable type, and he was looking forward to seeing what contributions she might make to the Guild.

Contemplating whether he should go and introduce himself, the newcomer saved him from the decision by approaching him herself. He offered her a smile, then extended his hand.

“The newest addition to the Thieves Guild, I take it. You can call me Rune,” he said by way of greeting.

She ignored his offered hand, and simply nodded instead. “An unusual name,” she remarked dryly.

 _Right..._ he reminded himself. This woman was not overly fond of pleasantries, and it seemed she went straight to the point.

“I have no idea if it's my real one. But that's what the man who raised me decided to call me.”

She seemed intrigued, if her raised eyebrow was any indication, so he decided to elaborate.

“I washed up on the shores of Solitude as a child. Seems I was in a shipwreck, but I could never remember anything before that moment. Anyway, the fisherman who found me decided to raise me as his own son, and named me Rune because of a strange stone he found in my pocket. It was covered in unusual runes, you see.”

She tilted her head. “Do you know what they mean?”

Rune shook his head sadly. “No one does,” he answered with a sigh. “I've even taken the damn thing to the College of Winterhold. I must have spent every last coin I've made with the Guild trying to find out what it means.”

“So, if you could decipher it, it might give you a clue as to your identity,” she stated matter-of-factly. He was surprised that she was taking this much interest in his mysterious past. Perhaps she was the type to try and solve whatever puzzle was put before her.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “It might not mean anything, but as long as there's a chance that it does... I'll keep looking.”

She nodded before asking, “May I see it?”

“Or course,” Rune said, digging the stone out of his belt pouch. He was never without it, often running his finger over the smooth surface, contemplating the symbols inscribed upon it. They were not carved into the stone, but rather seemed to be somehow fused onto its surface. He handed it to Nayru.

She took the stone, holding it up to the light as she squinted at it for a moment, then handed it back.

“They're Draconic runes,” she stated nonchalantly as she placed it back into his open palm.

Rune's mouth dropped open in shock. “ _What?_ ” was all he could manage in response. He had spent the last thirty years looking for answers, and now all of a sudden, this woman shows up and tells him what he wanted to know within minutes of meeting her?

She shrugged. “If you don't believe me, you can climb the seven thousand steps and ask the Graybeards. Be my guest.” With that, she started walking away.

Rune was dumbfounded, but soon shook himself out of his confusion and hurried after her.

“Wait!” he pleaded. “What does it say?”

She turned to face him again with another shrug. “Beats me. Nothing, as far as I can tell.”

“But...” he insisted, “if you know the language, can't you read it?”

“I can,” she explained, “but it doesn't make any sense. Almost like it's just a jumble of letters that don't go together.”

“I see...” he replied, dejected, then shook his head in confusion. “But, how do you know about Draconic runes, anyway? I've spent years searching, and no one has ever recognized them. Not even the wizards at the College!”

“I'd say you asked the wrong wizards, then,” Nayru offered. “Farengar Secret-Fire, the court wizard in Whiterun, could have told you as much. The man's obsessed with dragons.” He might have thought she was poking fun at this Farengar fellow, but her level tone indicated no such thing.

“Huh...” was Rune's intelligent reply. He was still reeling from her unexpected revelation. “You mentioned Graybeards? Who are they?”

“Masters of the Voice, who live atop High Hrothgar, on the Throat of the World,” she told him.

“So... when you said climb the seven thousand steps, you weren't kidding?” he wryly remarked.

She cocked her head at him and raised a brow, as if to say _I don't kid_.

“Tell you what,” she offered after a moment, “I'll tell you where you can find more of them.”

Rune blinked. “More runes like these? In Skyrim?” he asked incredulously.

“South of Riften,” she continued. “You're heard of Lost Tongue Overlook?”

“Up in the mountains?” he asked, to which she nodded in answer. “That area's dangerous. You don't climb up there unless you're looking to get attacked by bears or sabre cats.”

“Well, it's safe now,” she remarked. “I've cleared the area of threats. You won't have to worry about the wildlife, or worse.”

 _Or worse?_ Rune wondered. What could be worse than a hungry sabre cat deciding you were its lunch?

“Okay...” he hesitantly agreed, “so I go to Lost Tongue Overlook, and I'll find dragon runes there?”

“You will,” she agreed. “There's a word wall there. It has words carved into it by the dragons thousands of years ago.”

How did she know so much about dragons?, Rune wondered. Could he really have been asking the wrong people for answers all this time?

“I see...” he mused. “And you think this word wall will help me somehow?”

“Look, I didn't say it would help you, I just said there were runes there,” she shrugged. “What you make of them is up to you.” Apparently deciding that their conversation was over, she gave him a nod and walked away.

What a strange woman, Rune contemplated, then turned his thoughts back to what he had learned. The stone was inscribed in the language of _dragons_ , of all things? What in the world could it mean?

He had heard rumors of dragons returning to Skyrim, that Helgen over in Whiterun Hold had been attacked... but could there be any truth to that, after an absence of a thousand years? It seemed far-fetched, and regardless, what connection could that have to a stone found on a nameless boy who washed up on the beach thirty years ago? Perhaps he should write to Athel Newberry and inform him of this new development. But now he couldn't help but wonder whether Newberry was as adept at investigating as he claimed, if he'd failed to make the connection to dragons all this time. Rune had paid him good coin, and a lot of it, but he'd never turned up anything this concrete.

Perhaps the man was conning him? But no... Rune had too good a sense for these things, being quite a skilled con man himself. He wasn't likely to have the wool pulled over his eyes. Was it possible that Nayru was the one who wasn't being truthful? He admitted to himself that she was nearly impossible to read, so it was difficult to tell. And he had only just met her; he couldn't trust her just yet.

So, what option did that leave him? Considering that Lost Tongue Overlook was nearby, it wouldn't take much time for him to go there and check out that particular lead. If Nayru's information about the word wall held true, then it was likely safe to assume that she knew what she was talking about when it came to the runes. And he could then pursue that avenue wherever it led him.

He decided to hedge his bets. He would write to Athel Newberry and tell him what he'd learned, and he would also seek out this word wall. If either, or both, bore fruit, then he would decide how to proceed.

And if neither did...? He would just need to keep looking.

* * *

Rune spent the rest of that evening planning his next move. Once he had penned his letter to Newberry, he sat nursing a drink in contemplation. Before he headed for Lost Tongue Overlook, he wanted to be prepared. Nayru claimed that she had eliminated all of the dangerous creatures that roamed the area, but if that was so much as an exaggeration, he wasn't prepared to throw his life away finding out. He could handle a blade, but he was a thief, not a fighter or hunter; making the journey alone could well be suicide. He needed a partner.

He had friends in the Guild; surely, he could ask one of them to accompany him? He'd teamed up with other Guild members on missions before, but those had usually been official jobs, and this was a personal venture. Probably not much coin to be had in this one, he imagined.

Which brought him to another avenue of thought; he needed money. If he was going to pursue this new lead, and fund Newberry's continued research, he should be spending his time earning his pay instead of chasing rumors. But lucrative Guild contracts were few and far between these days; given its current reputation, fewer clients were seeking out the Guild and trusting its members with their coin. The jobs they got these days were paltry, not to mention in high demand among the Guild members themselves. Not long ago he'd seen Brynjolf have to break up what had very nearly turned into a fight between Thrynn and Vipir about which of them would get to take on the one job that Vex had been offering at the time. The two had nearly come to blows, and tensions continued to run high whenever a new opportunity came up.

It wasn't a good time to be padding his earnings, all told. Maybe he should wait before starting out on a new path of investigation? Then again, if he wasn't likely to get any Guild work, he supposed he could feel free to take the time to explore the Overlook. That left the question of who he might be able to bring along to help him.

Which is when an idea struck him. He just might be able to secure himself some coin and enlist a partner in one fell swoop, and all it would take was for him to capitalize on a nugget of information he'd filed away some time ago. It seemed that he'd finally found a use for it.

* * *

When Rune entered the Bee and Barb inn, he saw Sapphire right away. She was leaning against a support post with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. That was Sapphire for you; the woman had a sharp wit and a rare smile. Despite her sour expression, Rune put on a friendly grin as he approached her.

“Evening, Sapphire,” he greeted.

“Rune,” she returned. “Do we have some business I'm not aware of?” she asked cynically.

“Potentially,” he carefully answered, “I have a proposition for you.”

She snorted. “As long as it's nothing like the 'propositions' Vipir keeps offering me.”

Rune shook his head with a soft laugh. The last time Vipir had tried to charm his way into Sapphire's bed, his coarse attempts had earned him nothing but a stinging retort from her, and it was clear that her pointed criticism had gotten under the man's skin. He'd spent the rest of the day sulking angrily and glaring at her whenever she had been in his vicinity.

“Nothing like that, I assure you,” he answered. Not that Sapphire wasn't an attractive woman, quite the opposite in fact, but if her treatment of Vipir was any indication, it was unwise to pursue her unless the interest was mutual.

“Sit with me?” he invited, gesturing to an empty table nearby. She regarded him skeptically for a moment longer before uncrossing her arms and joining him as he sat.

“So, what's this about?” she asked as she settled herself into a chair.

“You know that I've been looking for clues into my past for a long time,” he began.

She nodded. “You've mentioned something about that before, yes.”

“Well, it just so happens that I have a lead. And in order to follow that lead, I need your help,” he told her.

She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“I need coin. And you know how hard it is to get Guild work these days.”

“And how does this concern me?” she asked levelly.

“Well... I hear things,” he revealed cryptically. “And one tidbit I happened upon was that you might be taking on a few jobs... off the books.”

Sapphire's cool gaze remained fixed on his eyes. She didn't react visibly, but he hoped his admission was making her sweat.

“And what if I am?” she asked casually.

“Well,” he continued brightly, “I imagine you wouldn't want this information to find its way to Brynjolf's ears. With the Guild in its current state, he certainly wouldn't appreciate knowing that you've been keeping the whole pie to yourself instead of sharing with the rest of us...” He gave her an impudent smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “Get to the point, Rune,” she warned, her jaw clenched.

He leaned in, eyes locked on hers. “Your next job; I want in. Split the pie with me, and Brynjolf doesn't need to know that the Guild isn't getting a slice.”

Sapphire was quiet for a moment, though she continued holding his gaze. “Is that all?” she asked calmly.

“Actually, there's one other thing,” he mentioned, almost as an aside. “I'm going to check on something up at Lost Tongue Overlook, and I want you to come with me.”

“I'm not keen on getting myself killed,” she pointed out plainly.

“Neither am I,” he assured her. “I have it on good authority that the usual threats there have been... taken care of. But, in case some danger remains, I want someone watching my back.” He casually leaned back in his chair before continuing. “Unless, or course, you'd rather I have that talk with Brynjolf...”

She made a show of considering his words. He had no doubts that she would agree, but she couldn't have liked that he was blackmailing her.

“Fine,” she finally breathed in resignation. “I'll go, and you can tag along on _one_ job. But you'd better pull your weight. I'm not taking you along just to have you screw things up for me. There's a reason I usually work alone.”

“Don't you worry,” he assured her, “I have plenty of motivation to do my best.”

She eyed him dubiously. He didn't take it to heart that Sapphire doubted his skills. What she'd said was true; she did work alone, and she didn't seem to be inclined to put her trust in anyone, even her guild-mates. He would show her that her worries were unfounded, at least where he was concerned. Rune knew his trade and performed it well.

“So... when do we head to the Overlook?” she asked with a sigh, her displeasure at the situation plain in her tone.

“First thing tomorrow, if you're ready,” he suggested.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Might as well get this over with as quickly as possible.” She rose from her chair. “I'll be waiting for you outside the south gate at sunrise. Don't be late,” she warned before taking her leave.

“Yes, ma'am,” Rune called after her retreating form with a mock salute. What pleasant company she would be, he thought to himself with a sardonic smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit about Nayru, my Dragonborn character in this fic; even though she is a secondary character in this particular story, I did base her off of my character in my current playthrough. Previously, I've written about Talia, my first Dragonborn, whose personality was based on the fact that I did a mostly 'lawful-good' playthrough with that character; I avoided murdering, stealing, and otherwise doing immoral and illegal things in game. As such, I steered clear of the Thieves' Guild and Dark Brotherhood quests, as well as most of the Daedric quests (other than Azura and Meridia).
> 
> So when I created Nayru as a character, she was going to be the antithesis of Talia, the Dragonborn who allowed me to play through all of that other content that I'd skipped previously. She's a sneaky, backstabbing assassin type - a chaotic neutral character with ambiguous morals; aloof, detached, who does what she needs to without flinching. She's self-serving, but will also save the world when tasked with it, because it's in her best interest to do so, not because she cares.


	2. Chapter 2

Rune was as good as his word, and was waiting for Sapphire outside the city's southern gate before she herself had arrived. She strode up and gave him an appraising look when she spotted him. He recognized a brief flicker of approval in her gaze, and pondered that if being on time was enough to impress Sapphire, then he should have no problem getting on her good side.

“Good morning,” he offered with a grin.

“As good as any,” she conceded in an even tone. “Shall we?” she asked, a bit of impatience marring her cool composure.

“Of course,” Rune answered, politely gesturing to the road ahead. They strode onto the cobblestoned pavement, walking in stride with one another. The two traveled in silence, and Rune wondered whether he'd made the right call in recruiting help using blackmail; if Sapphire was antagonistic towards him, their partnership might end up being more trouble than it was worth.

Well, what was done was done, and he'd have to make the best of the situation. He'd have to be careful, though; he could practically feel Sapphire's resentment radiating from her. He needed to ingratiate himself to her, somehow. He'd find a way, he thought confidently.

* * *

Sapphire was going to stab Rune. She was going to wait until the right moment, and when she had the chance, she'd put her knife straight through his devious, manipulative heart. Or perhaps the mountains would prove themselves to be more dangerous than he anticipated, and an accident could be arranged. She imagined herself pushing him from a steep ledge, and watching as he tumbled to the ground, body cracking every time it hit the cliffside on the way down. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. It had been years since she'd left the Dark Brotherhood to join the Thieves Guild, but she should be able to manage it just fine.

She sighed internally. As much as she was tempted to do just that, how would she explain her guild-mate's death to Brynjolf and Mercer? Sure, she could claim it had been an accident... but would she be able to pull off such a lie convincingly? Though she certainly lived a less-than-honest life, she admitted to herself that she wasn't the most skilled liar the Guild had ever recruited. That honor probably went to the very man whose murder she was hypothetically planning. And if she was found to be responsible for his death, she'd be kicked out of the Guild, and then what would she do? She had nowhere else to go.

She supposed she had no choice but to play along, at least for the time being. Rune was a nuisance, albeit a good-looking one, but if she held up her part of the bargain, she was fairly certain that he would keep her secret. _He had better_ , she thought bitterly. She wasn't about to let him play this little game more than once, and if he tried to, next time she really _would_ stab him.

* * *

The thick silence between them lingered as Rune pondered at the puzzle that was Sapphire. He knew almost nothing about her, save that Brynjolf had recruited her, and that she'd been an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood before that. She never spoke about herself or her past, and she hadn't made friends with any of the others in the Guild. When it came to her work, she was efficient and dedicated. But who was she outside of that? He didn't have a clue.

But Rune was equally efficient and dedicated in his own way. He could be patient, and one way or another, he'd figure Sapphire out. But he wouldn't get very far if she refused to speak to him.

“So... aren't you curious about what's worth a trip to Lost Tongue Overlook?” he asked her, just to get the conversation started.

She took a moment before she replied. “Not particularly,” she tossed out offhandedly. “Your business is your own. I'm only here so that you'll keep your nose out of mine.”

Rune chuckled softly. She was prickly, alright. Given the circumstances, he supposed he couldn't really blame her. If he could just get past her hostility, he knew he'd find an angle he could work. He always did.

“Well, whether you're curious or not, I figure you have a right to know,” he offered. “You've met the Guild's newest member? Dunmer by the name of Nayru Sevros?”

Sapphire nodded. “I crossed paths with her, but we didn't speak much.” _They wouldn't, I suppose_ , Rune thought to himself. Those two certainly weren't the most talkative people he'd ever met.

“Well, according to her, there's something called a word wall atop the Overlook. And the runes on the wall were supposedly carved by dragons, of all things.”

Sapphire scoffed lightly, then ventured, “Dragons, huh? And since when are you so interested in myths and legends?”

“Well,” he explained, “there's a chance that the dragons' language might somehow be connected to me and my past.” He sighed. “I still don't know how or why, mind you, but once I've seen the runes for myself, I'll know if it's worth investigating further.”

“Sounds like a load of nonsense to me,” Sapphire bluntly replied. “You think you're some sort of descendant of dragons or something? Maybe you're got some special, hidden power that you'll discover once you see this wall?” She laughed aloud, and muttered, “Ridiculous...”

“No, I don't suspect any such thing, if you must know,” he corrected with a roll of his eyes. He didn't mention that a similar thought had, in fact, briefly crossed his mind, but he had dismissed the notion just as quickly as it had occurred to him. “I'm just looking for a connection; a place to start. Anything that can give me a clue to where I should look next.”

“Well, good luck with that then,” she replied, her tone dismissive. “It shouldn't take too long for us to climb up there, and then we'll find out whether this whole dragon business has some truth to it or not.”

They turned east once they reached Snow-Shod Farm, and began making their way onto the trail leading up the mountain. As they picked their way through the wilderness, Rune took care not to make too much noise, in case they attracted the deadly creatures that he feared might still be lurking in the area. It seemed he need not have worried, as they soon spotted evidence of Nayru Sevros' passing: a pair of sabre cat corpses. Rune knelt down to examine the bodies, and though they had since been ravaged by scavengers, he spotted some clean cuts in the flesh, suggesting that the beasts had been felled by a bladed weapon.

Rising again, he let out a low whistle. If Nayru was able to fend off two sabre cats at once, she was a formidable fighter indeed. Those beasts were savage, and if this had been a mated pair, they would have fought ferociously to protect one another.

“Well,” he remarked to Sapphire, “it may be we won't need to worry about being attacked after all. Nevertheless, let's keep our guard up, just in case.”

“I had no intention of doing otherwise,” she dismissed dryly, then pushed ahead of him to continue up the path.

Wryly shaking his head, Rune followed. The path wound steadily up the mountain and was not as steep as he might have feared. They continued to proceed with caution, but did not encounter anything more vicious than a fox. It was almost turning into a pleasant hike, other than the fact that Rune's travel companion wasn't being terribly congenial.

After a few hours of climbing, he began to wonder how much further they would need to go. The path was becoming steeper as they went, and the bright, late morning sun was beginning to make him sweat. Sapphire showed no sign of discomfort, but she didn't seem the type to complain about such things. She wouldn't want to seem weak, he pondered. She likely wouldn't say a word even were she dehydrated and exhausted; she'd just keep going until it was time to stop, or else her feet failed her.

Finally, they spotted the first of the ancient stone steps leading up the cliffside to Lost Tongue Outlook. Rune breathed a sigh of relief, as he was already beginning to be winded, and they still had the stairs to climb. The steps were narrow and steep, and the pocked stone was worn away in places, making the assent that much more treacherous. As Rune gazed up towards their destination, he saw great arches rising from the platform high above. It was all very imposing, and his stomach twisted with nerves, eager to see what he would find once they reached the top.

“Well,” he ventured, gesturing towards the steps, “shall we?”

Sapphire only grunted in acknowledgment and began the arduous climb. Once they reached the first landing, she turned to him and accused, “There had better be something up here worth seeing. If you dragged me up this mountain just for the view, I'm not going to be pleased.”

Taking the next flight of steps with a sigh, Rune attempted to mollify her. “Where's your sense of adventure?” he asked. “This place is clearly ancient; who knows what we might find? Lost treasure, perhaps?”

Sapphire scoffed as they reached the last set of stairs and began her assent. “You think if there was treasure here it wouldn't have already been looted by now?” she reasoned impatiently. “It's probably nothing but an old, dusty-- What in Oblivion is _that?_ ” she suddenly exclaimed.

Rune looked up and stopped in his tracks as he spotted what had Sapphire so surprised. Atop the landing of Lost Tongue Overlook lay the largest skeleton he had ever seen. It must have been at least forty feet in length from the skull to the tip of its tail. The remnants of a pair of massive wings hung around it like gigantic hands with impossibly long fingers.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he flatly replied, “That... most likely is, or _was_... a dragon, I suppose.”

Sapphire turned towards him, her eyes wide with shock. “A dragon,” she repeated, almost as if the word offended her, “here? In Skyrim? _Now?_ ”

Gingerly stepping towards the skeleton, Rune observed, “I suppose we don't know how long it's been here. The bones would remain, even after a thousand years.”

In response, Sapphire turned and pointed out what appeared to be human remains lying upon the stone nearby, charred almost beyond recognition, one arm reaching out in anguish. “If it's been dead a thousand years, then how do you explain that?” she accused. “There's still flesh on it. I highly doubt that unfortunate person lit _themself_ on fire.”

“I... suppose not,” Rune reasoned. He thought back to what Nayru Sevros had told him about having taken care of the danger in the area. She must have been serious when she'd implied that there had been worse things than sabre cats and bears to worry about.

If she'd been truthful about that, then it stood to reason that she may have been serious about the word wall as well.

Turning away from the dragon's remains, he looked up and saw the large, curved surface of what must have been the wall in question. Stepping towards it, he felt his heart begin to beat faster. His hand went into his pocket of its own volition, fingers searching for his stone and rubbing it absently.

Once he stood in front of the ancient monument, he scanned its surface with his eyes, taking in the runes carved into the rock. He lifted a hand to lightly trace the gouges that had evidently been made by dragon claws.

Taking a step back, he pulled out his stone to compare it with what he was seeing. There was a startling resemblance.

“Dammit...” he heard Sapphire mutter pointedly. Curious, he turned to see what she was up to. Not far from where he stood was a large, impressive looking treasure chest. She knelt in front it with the lid open, then stood when she spotted him looking her way.

“It's empty,” she proclaimed with a frustrated gesture towards the chest. “For a minute there, I thought there was going to be something valuable up here after all.”

Looking back towards the wall, he licked his lips and answered, “There may not be treasure, but I think I did manage to find something of value.”

“Oh?” she asked, stepping up to stand next to him. “Are these the runes?”

“They are,” he confirmed with a nod. “And they do seem to match the ones on my stone. Not the way they're arranged... but the symbols themselves are similar.”

Curious, Sapphire leaned in to take a look. Rune handed his stone to her, and she brought it closer to her face as she examined it.

“You're right,” she admitted. “The ones on the wall are lined up like words in a phrase... but the runes on this stone are more of a jumble. Like someone tried to fit as many of them onto it as they could.”

She handed the stone back to him. “What do you think it means?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“I have no idea,” he confessed, shrugging. “But one thing is confirmed: these are Draconic runes, just as Nayru said they were.”

Sapphire nodded, and he thought he could see interest in her eyes. If he had managed to capture her curiosity with this mystery, perhaps it would be easier to convince her to help. She had already agreed to take him along on her next job... maybe she could be coaxed into aiding him beyond that.

All in due time, he reminded himself. This was just the first step, and he still didn't know whether this information would lead him anywhere. But he'd be damned if he wouldn't do his best to find out.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Rune was pensive as he and Sapphire began the climb back down to Riften. Somehow, as a child, he'd acquired a stone with the writing of dragons etched into it. But even knowing what they were, he couldn't puzzle out what it meant.

If Nayru Sevros was to be believed (and so far, she had proven herself to be trustworthy in regards to this topic), the writing on his stone wasn't meant to be legible. What he'd seen on the word wall seemed to confirm that, and it stood to reason that despite featuring the dragons' language, a dragon itself could not have created the symbols on the stone. After having seen the massive claws on a real dragon skeleton himself, and the size of the runes carved into the word wall, that much was clear.

So, a person was likely responsible for the stone's creation. But how did that relate to him? Was it just a random object that'd he happened across and had kept? Or had it been given to him specifically? These were all questions that he had asked himself countless times before, but knowing about this new connection to the dragons, he felt as if he needed to go over all of them again. Maybe he'd missed something, something that the clue about dragons could bring to light...

Sapphire was silent as she walked next to him. He glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking. She was a puzzle as well, and perhaps one that he was more adept at solving. Turning his mind away from one problem, he decided to work on another.

“What are your thoughts on all this, Sapphire?” he asked her, genuinely curious about her interpretation of what they'd learned. “Any ideas about how it might relate to my past?”

She cocked her head, considering, then finally shrugged, admitting, “I haven't a clue. But I suppose I'm not one to put so much importance into events of the past. We can't change what's come before. Best to look forward.”

“I suppose,” he conceded. “But the past informs our present and our future... and what happens when you don't have a past?”

“You've got one,” she insisted with a wave of her hand. “Everything that's happened to you since you woke up from that shipwreck, that's your past. That's what you've built your life on and that's made you into who you are now. So why does it matter what came before then?”

He was silent a moment, contemplating her words. “You're not wrong...” he admitted. “Maybe I have been putting too much importance into this. I had a family who raised me, so should it matter who my real parents were?”

He thought of his father, the fisherman who had found him and taken him in. He'd been a good man, had raised him as his own son, and Rune was eternally grateful for that. But he'd died several years ago, taken by sickness, and his wife, Rune's mother, had never been the same since. He supposed that losing that sense of family had reawoken the questions in his heart about where he came from. Thinking back, he realized that it was only then that he had truly put all his effort into searching for his origin. Perhaps he hoped to find his real family so that he could enjoy that connection again.

Regardless, he didn't think he could just let it go, especially not now that he'd just found a piece of the puzzle. He didn't know if Sapphire would understand that, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

They made it back to Riften without incident, and both returned to the Ragged Flagon. Before Sapphire took her leave of him, Rune reminded her to let him know once she had a job lined up for them. She rolled her eyes, assuring him that she had something in the works and would tell him when everything was in place, then went on her way.

Heading to the cookfire to get himself something to eat, Rune pondered what to do next. Should he speak to Nayru again and see if he could get any more information out of her? He didn't know how else to pursue this dragon angle, and she'd been the one to tip him off. Otherwise, maybe he could revisit some of his earlier sources with this new information and see if something came up. He'd already written to Newberry, and only waited now for a reply.

If he couldn't make another connection, or find another clue, Rune might just be as stuck as he had been before.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was only a few days before Rune had another breakthrough.

He hadn't been able to pin down Nayru to ask her more about her knowledge of Draconic runes; it seemed she'd disappeared from Riften since the last time he'd spoken to her. He suspected she had interests outside the Guild keeping her occupied; he didn't know what exactly, so he subtly probed his guild-mates about her to see what, if anything, they knew. The majority of them had little knowledge of her doings, but Delvin let slip a connection to the Dark Brotherhood.

Rune wouldn't have been surprised at Nayru being an assassin; she certainly seemed to have the necessary detachment for the job. He reminded himself to stay on her good side; the woman was intimidating enough even without the knowledge that she killed people for money.

He suspected that the Guild and the Brotherhood may not be the only pies she had her fingers in, but he hadn't a clue what else she might be up to. Either way, he didn't want to sit around waiting for her return before continuing his search. He needed a plan.

That was when he unexpectedly found a letter waiting for him on his bed. Perplexed, he opened it and found to his surprise that it was a reply from Newberry.

_Rune,_

_I was already planning to write to you when I received your letter, and so I sent it back with the courier right away. I don't know whether I'll be able to make a connection to your new information about dragons or not, but I will look into it. However, I do finally have something. At long last, I believe I've discovered the origin of the ship you were on when it sank._

_From the records I've located, it seems likely that the vessel you were traveling on made its port on the island of Solstheim. That's all I know at this point, but it may well be worth it to travel there and see what you can find._

_There is a ship in Windhelm, the Northern Maiden, that will take passengers to Solstheim if you have the coin. I don't know what answers, if any, await you there, but I wish you luck._

_Athel Newberry_

Solstheim... Rune couldn't believe it. He finally had a lead to follow; a real, concrete lead, after all this time. His heart was in his throat, and his hands were shaking. He had to remind himself that he couldn't just run off to Windhelm and board a ship out of Skyrim then and there; he would need to make preparations first, including acquiring enough coin to hire passage.

Sapphire, he remembered. She'd mentioned that she was working out a job for them to go on. He made a mental note to ask her about it. Perhaps he could even push the boundaries of their agreement to include her joining him on his trip to Solstheim? He could use whatever help he could get; he had no clue what he might be getting himself into, after all. Though it was perhaps unwise to push Sapphire too far in terms of the blackmail; if he wasn't careful, it could end up blowing up in his face. Maybe he could convince her to come of her own volition.

His thoughts were going a mile a minute, and he reminded himself to slow down. He'd sort out the situation with Sapphire one way or another. But first, he was going to learn everything he could about Solstheim.

* * *

Once his preparations were complete, Rune tracked Sapphire down to inquire about the status of that job she'd mentioned. She sighed, seeming annoyed at the reminder of their deal, but informed him that they could head out any time. Eager to set everything into motion, he suggested they start the next day and she agreed, telling him to pack for the journey and meet him behind the stables in the morning. She neglected to tell him where they were heading, but Rune didn't much care. He was just happy to be _doing_ something.

The next day, Rune grabbed his bag and headed out to the stables at the crack of dawn. She was waiting for him when he arrived, a fat bundle slung over her shoulder in addition to her smaller pack.

“Ready?” she asked, spotting him.

“I suppose I'm ready for anything, though you still haven't told me where we're going,” he pointed out patiently.

She beckoned for him to follow with a jerk of her head as she took the road, and called back _Windhelm_ over her shoulder.

“Windhelm, eh?” he repeated with a smirk. “That's rather convenient, I suppose. I was planning on taking a trip to Solstheim, you see. I can book transport and be off as soon as our business is done.”

“Hm,” she replied, “Suit yourself. It's no skin off my nose what you do after the job, so long as you fulfill your part of the bargain.”

“I intend to,” he assured her. She was still cold towards him, so he would have to try and get her on friendlier terms if he was going to convince her to come with him to Solstheim. _One thing at a time_ , he reminded himself.

They walked in silence for a while, and Rune wracked his brain for a topic that might bring Sapphire out of her shell. He hadn't had much success at getting her to open up on their last venture. He wondered if she would perhaps respond to flattery, if he kept it innocent enough.

“I have to admit, Sapphire, I'm impressed with you,” he began. “It's not just anyone who could get away with going around Guild policy without getting caught.”

She said nothing for a moment, then remarked dryly, “You found out about it, didn't you?”

“I suppose I did,” he conceded, “but knowing things that people want kept secret is my specialty. And it did take me a while to notice; the fact that you got past my perceptive nature for so long is proof of your discretion.”

He saw her mouth rise in a half-smile. Maybe he was getting somewhere.

“What can you tell me about this job?” he asked after a moment.

“Nothing, while we're out in the open,” she cautioned. “My client is concerned about secrecy. You'll know everything when the time comes.”

“I suppose that's a wise approach,” he admitted, a bit disappointed not to learn what he was getting himself into.

“How much do you reckon this job will pay?” he asked her after a moment. “Enough for passage on a ship out of Skyrim?”

“More than enough for that, don't you worry,” she assured him smugly.

 _Might as well put the idea out there now_ , he thought to himself. “What about passage for two? If we find we work well together, I thought you might like to come along to Solstheim with me.”

Sapphire barked a wry laugh. “I thought I told you I wasn't interested in that sort of proposition,” she warned with a shake of her head.

“That's not what I had in mind at all,” he clarified. “I was rather thinking that I'd like someone capable at my side, given that I'm going into this blind.” He tried appealing to her bottom line, “You never know what kind of thieving prospects we might come across there. It could turn out to be a lucrative venture.”

“It could also be a waste of my time,” she remarked dryly.

She clearly wasn't responding, so he tried a different approach. “You've never been to Solstheim before, have you?”

“I haven't,” she conceded with the slightest of frowns.

“So, take this opportunity to experience the world a little,” he offered. “At least consider it, won't you?” He looked at her with the saddest pout he could manage without it seeming over the top.

She sighed, and relented with a begrudged, “I'll think about it.”

Rune smiled in response. So he _was_ getting somewhere with her, after all.

* * *

It was early evening by the time they saw the great gates of Windhelm in the distance, and Rune was surprised when Sapphire took the road east of the city instead of continuing on. “This way,” she murmured when she saw him hesitate, and then continued up the road. Eventually, they came to a farmstead along the river.

He followed Sapphire as she went up to the farmhouse and knocked on the door. A dark elf opened it, a suspicious frown on his face. “Yes?” he asked hesitantly.

“Belyn Hlaalu?” she inquired, and the man nodded in confirmation. “I'm Sapphire, and this is Rune.”

“Oh!” he replied, “oh yes, please come in.” He stepped aside to allow them to enter. An elderly Nord woman sweeping the floors looked up at their arrival. Hlaalu addressed her impatiently, “Leave us, Adisla, I have business to attend to.”

The woman nodded with a grunt of acknowledgment, and left the room. Once they were alone, the three of them sat around the farmhouse table.

“What is he doing here?” Hlaalu asked Sapphire brusquely, gesturing towards Rune. “You never mentioned having a partner in your letters – I was made to understand that you worked alone. Need I remind you that I requested secrecy in this matter?”

Sapphire held up a conciliatory hand, acknowledging his concerns. “I didn't forget. But I have a plan. You see, Rune here will make a perfect distraction while I fulfill my part of the bargain.”

Rune raised an eyebrow at her, then turned towards Hlaalu to see the Dunmer observing him appraisingly.

“I see... oh, you are a clever girl, aren't you?” he said to Sapphire with a low chuckle. “He's certainly handsome enough to keep her occupied.”

“Keep who occupied?” Rune asked, his patience wearing thin as the two discussed him as if he weren't there.

“You didn't tell him?” Hlaalu replied, bemused.

“You did ask for secrecy,” Sapphire pointed out. “Figured we could fill him in now, away from prying ears.”

“Very well,” Hlaalu agreed, then turned towards Rune, finally deigning to address him directly.

“There is a woman in the city by the name of Viola Giordano,” the man explained. “A wealthy spinster who's always making a bother of herself.” That last was delivered with a hint of disgust to his tone,

Rune nodded, waiting for Hlaalu to continue. “I've asked Sapphire to help me take her down a peg,” the dark elf said, turning to address her. “You are to break into Viola's house and help yourself to whatever riches you can find. I care not what you take, as long as it's valuable enough to be missed. It will be yours for the keeping, on top of my payment if the job is successfully completed.”

Rune raised a brow, impressed by the lucrative prospects of this job. Sapphire had a rare smile on her face, her expression smug.

“So I'm to keep this woman busy while Sapphire robs her home, then?” Rune surmised.

“That's the idea,” Sapphire told him. “Viola spends her evenings at Candlehearth Hall. If you can meet her there and keep her occupied with some flirtation and drinks, then the coast will be clear for me to slip into her house under cover of darkness.”

“It's perfect,” Hlaalu murmured, locking eyes with Rune. “Lay it on thick, boy. Make her so lovesick that she'll be devastated when you inevitably disappear from her life.” The Dunmer's cruel smirk made it clear that he detested the woman.

“I suppose I can do that...” Rune conceded. “Tell me,” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him, “what's this Viola Giordano done to provoke your ire?”

Sapphire shot him a dark look, no doubt concerned that he would offend her client with his prying. Hlaalu seemed taken aback at his question, but answered regardless.

“It's not what she's done to me,” he insisted, “it's just her manner. The way she goes around sticking her nose into everyone's business. Why, just look at the way she treats Captain Lonely-Gale!” The man's face twisted as he continued voicing his complaint, “No matter how many times he turns her down, she won't stop pursuing him. The man tragically lost his family, and she just keeps following him and bothering him every opportunity she gets. It's shameful! The woman needs to learn some respect!” He slammed his fist on the table with that last statement, then seemed to regret how impassioned he had become, avoiding eye contact.

Understanding more than what was said, Rune nodded in agreement. “Don't worry,” he reassured the Dunmer, “if making her pine for me is what you want, then I'll have her so wrapped around my finger that she'll forget all about this Captain Lonely-Gale.”

Hlaalu's slow smile was dripping with satisfaction at this response. “Very good,” he drawled, then escorted them out so that they could get started.

As they began making their way towards the city, Sapphire asked, “Well? What does your famous perception tell you about this job?”

“It's a good plan,” Rune admitted. “I wasn't expecting to be serving as a distraction; I rather thought I would be getting in on the fun, but I suppose it is your job and so you call the shots.”

“What's the matter?” Sapphire asked in a mocking voice, “Romancing a woman isn't your idea of a good time?”

“I suppose she doesn't sound like my type,” he remarked. “But I'll turn on the charm regardless, and hopefully it'll be enough to dazzle her.”

“I'm not worried,” Sapphire shrugged, “your pretty face should do the trick.”

Rune couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. So, Sapphire thought he was pretty, did she? There were worse things in the world than that.

“And what of our client?” she asked after a moment.

“I believe he'll pay handsomely. His dislike for this woman is obvious,” he observed, “and he clearly has feelings for this Lonely-Gale fellow himself.”

Sapphire nodded. “I thought so as well,” she agreed. “A good way to make some money, that; a passionate client with a personal stake in the job will always pay well.”

“It seems you know how to pick them,” Rune praised, before asking, “You mentioned that I should meet the mark for drinks at the inn. How do you suggest I approach her?”

“That's where this comes in,” Sapphire said, hefting the bag on her shoulder. “I've brought you a change of clothes. Try posing as a young nobleman new to the city. That should be attractive to a woman like her.” She turned to study him, looking him up and down. “I do hope your acting skills are up to the task,” she remarked.

“No need to worry, Sapphire,” he insisted with a half-smile. “You won't regret bringing me along on this.”

She narrowed her eyes skeptically at him. “We'll see about that,” she replied, but favored him with a slight smile nonetheless.

* * *

Rune set a third cup of wine in front of Viola as she leaned in next to him to press herself against his arm. Her dark eyes drank him in eagerly, and a helplessly dreamy smile was plastered on her face as she twirled a lock of her silver hair through her fingers. Divines, the woman was old enough to be his mother, and she was acting like a smitten teenager. He smirked internally; he was certainly fulfilling his end of the bargain.

“How long will you be staying in the city, darling?” Viola purred, her voice already beginning to slur ever so slightly.

“At least a week,” he assured her with a smile. “I have some business ventures to look into, and then may have to move on, but... if things go well here in Windhelm, I may not need to leave at all.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” she responded excitedly. “I know all the important people in this city; let me introduce you to some of them. I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for.”

“That's very kind of you to offer, Viola dear,” he beamed at her. “I may take you up on it. Tomorrow, perhaps.” He intended to be on his way to Solstheim by then, of course, but Viola certainly didn't need to know that.

She giggled, (giggling! At her age!) and took his hand in hers. He raised her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly.

 _Careful_ , he reminded himself, noting the almost predatory look in her eyes. He needed to make sure he didn't let things get too far. He had no intention of taking Viola Giordano to his bed, though he suspected by this point that she would be more than willing.

He let go of her hand, taking another sip of his wine. Though he had been pushing cup after cup onto his table companion, he himself was making sure not to overindulge. They had been seated together for well over an hour, perhaps closer to two. He wondered how much longer Sapphire would need to do her part.

A barmaid soon arrived with two drinks on a tray, setting them down onto the table in front of them. “Two mugs of Blackbriar mead, courtesy of another of our patrons,” she explained with a smile.

Perfect, Rune thought. That was Sapphire's signal. He could put an end to the seduction and sneak away now.

“Lovely,” he remarked, then held up his mug to clink it against Viola's. “To our new friendship, my dear.”

She responded with another giggle, drinking down the mead with a twinkle in her eye. “More than friendship, I hope...” she murmured, her mouth quirked up in a smirk.

Right, he thought; he needed to get out of here. He offered Viola a smile full of promise and took one last swig of his drink.  
  
“If you'll excuse me, my dear, I must see to nature's call,” he said, rising. “I'll be right back,” he assured her.

“Don't keep me waiting long,” she purred, running her fingertips along his arm in a parting gesture.

He nodded and winked, then turned and made his way down the stairs, hurriedly taking his leave of Candlehearth Hall once his would-be lover was out of sight.

Making his way out through the Windhelm gate, he hurried to the copse of trees just off the road where he and Sapphire had agreed to meet. He found her waiting for him when he arrived.

“How did it go?” he asked, curious to know what she'd been able to make off with.

“It went well,” she answered. “Getting into the house was easy enough, and I found quite a few interesting things. Gems, coins, jewelry... worth the trouble, I'd say.” She smirked as she met his eyes. “And you?” she asked with a hint of mockery to her tone.

“Like I told you, I had her wrapped around my finger. She's likely still waiting for me to come back from the privy as we speak.” He gave her an impudent smile.

“Well done,” she offered, her features showing a hint of approval. “Shall we report back to the client, then?”

“Let me change back into my own clothes, first,” he insisted. The garments Sapphire had provided him with were far finer than anything he was accustomed to wearing, and in truth, he felt a bit silly in them. Like a fancy peacock, looking to draw all eyes to him. He had played the part, but now he needed to be inconspicuous again, and these clothes would not do for that.

Sapphire politely turned away as he slipped back into his Guild attire, feeling decidedly more comfortable in the soft, well-worn leathers. They then set off down the road back to Hlaalu farm.

Rune was pensive as they walked, and Sapphire seemed to notice, as she suddenly asked him, “Got something on your mind?”

“I was just thinking,” he began, trying to put his thoughts into words, “when I first got to Candlehearth Hall, I managed to catch a snippet of conversation between Viola and this infamous Captain Lonely-Gale.”

Sapphire hummed in acknowledgment, and he thought he detected curiosity in her voice.

“It was as Hlaalu said; the woman continued to throw herself at him, and he clearly wanted nothing to do with her. He eventually took his leave, and it gave me the perfect opening to approach her.” _I mislike seeing a woman looking so forlorn_ , he had told Viola, asking if he might join her for a drink. From there, shifting her interest over to himself had been an easy task.

“It occurred to me,” he continued, musing, “that it's all a bit sad.”

Sapphire huffed, then remarked, “Feeling sorry for our victim, are we? Don't tell me you're regretting coming along already.”

“No,” he answered, “I was in this for the coin, and I'm satisfied with the outcome.”

“Then what's the problem?” she asked with a shrug,

He took a moment to choose his words, then continued. “I suppose it just made me think about people's motivations for what they do. Viola obsesses over Lonely-Gale, yet look how readily I struck her fancy. She's a woman in search of love; she's looking for someone to offer her affection.”

Sapphire nodded, conceding his point. Rune went on, “And then there's Hlaalu. Also motivated by love, but he takes a decidedly less direct approach. He doesn't confess his feelings to Lonely-Gale, either because he can't admit them to himself, or because he fears rejection. And really, who of us doesn't share that fear?

So instead, he turns jealous, and possessive. He focuses on the fact that Viola is pursuing the same man that he cares for, and decides to punish her for it. If he can't have Lonely-Gale, then neither can she.”

“Interesting...” Sapphire admitted, considering. “And what of the Captain? He is at the center of this love triangle, after all.”

“My impression is that he's also clinging to love, but the love of his dead wife and family. Despite the fact that he has two people vying for his affection, none of that will make him happy. Because the love that he needs is one that can never be fulfilled.”

A weighted silence followed Rune's words, until Sapphire quietly admitted, “I suppose you're right. That is rather sad.”

“Why, Sapphire,” he teased, “are you perhaps getting sentimental?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don't misconstrue my words. I was simply acknowledging that your observations have some merit.”

Rune chuckled, suspecting that she was getting defensive because he had struck a nerve. He wanted to press her to reveal more, but needed to be careful not to overplay his hand. Perhaps if he showed vulnerability first, she'd be more inclined to follow suit.

“We all have our motivations. In my case, I've never hidden the fact that I ply my trade with the purpose of finding answers to the questions of my past. Were I a carpenter, or farmer, or baker instead of a thief, still, my goal would be the same. Spending my hard-earned coin in the pursuit of finding my home and my family.” Rune exhaled on a sigh before continuing. “It eats me up inside, not knowing where I come from. There can be no certainty in my life while I continue to hold these questions in my heart.”

He turned his head to look at her, then ventured, “And you, Sapphire... as good at reading people as I am, you remain a mystery. I can't help but wonder what your motivation is to do what we do.”

It wasn't a question, merely an observation, and as such she could choose to answer him or not. She seemed thoughtful, keeping her eyes on the road ahead as she pondered his words.

“My past was... difficult,” she softly admitted, “which is why I don't speak of it.” She eyed him askance, then remarked, “If you'd been through what I have, you might be thankful not to remember it.”

Rune did not offer sympathy in reply; he didn't think Sapphire would appreciate his pity. Instead, he waited to see if she would choose to elaborate.

After a moment, she spoke. “I suppose when it comes to my motivation... it might not be that different from yours. Partly, at least. It's been a long time since I've had a family and a place I call home...”

Seemingly realizing how much she had revealed, she shook her head, and observed, “In any case, we're here. Time to get our reward for the night's efforts.”

Briskly stepping up to the door of the Hlaalu farmstead, Sapphire knocked on the door. Belyn answered it quickly, as if he had been waiting nearby for their arrival, and ushered them inside.

“Well?” he asked eagerly, “How did it go?”

“A resounding success, I'd say,” Sapphire remarked, emptying her bag of ill-gotten treasures onto the table. Hlaalu's eyes widened at the sight of the many gems and trinkets which gleamed in the candlelight. He rubbed his hands together in satisfaction at the evidence of his enemy's suffering.

“All yours to keep, as I promised,” the Dunmer reminded them. “And what of the other part of the plan?” he asked, eyeing Rune with anticipation.

Rune grinned at him as Sapphire returned the stolen goods to their sack.“Viola may well spend the rest of her days wondering what happened to her darling nobleman Tertius Varro and asking herself what she's done wrong to drive him away. And of course, no matter how much she looks for him, he'll be nowhere to be found.”

“Excellent,” Hlaalu replied with a gleam in his eye. “You've done well, both of you.” He turned to retrieve something, and returned with a fat coin purse in hand. “As per our agreement, here is your well-earned reward,” he said as he handed the gold to Sapphire. She hefted the bag and seemed satisfied by the weight of it, and the clinking sound of the coins as she tied it to her belt.

“I thank you for your help. If I require further such services in the future, I will surely make use of your talents again.” Hlaalu shook each of their hands in parting.

“You're most welcome, Belyn,” Rune assured him as he moved towards the door. When he turned to see if Sapphire was following, he saw her hesitate before laying a hand to the dark elf's forearm. “I hope you find what you're seeking,” she told the Dunmer, who seemed somewhat perplexed at her words.

When the two of them stood outside once more, Rune looked at Sapphire with a smirk.

“What?” she demanded impatiently, seeing his expression.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he insisted as he began walking down the road.

Sapphire's expression turned unpleasant at his answer. “Don't go giving me that look, Rune. I find that cultivating a pleasant relationship with clients encourages them to hire me again.”

Rune stopped himself from chuckling, trying to imagine what Sapphire considered a 'pleasant' relationship, given her usual disposition.

He decided to change the subject, asking pointedly, “So... have you reconsidered Solstheim?”

“Perhaps...” she ventured. “It _would_ be a perfect place for me to fence these stolen goods without drawing suspicion...”

“A fair point, that,” he encouraged. “How about I sweeten the deal by paying for your passage? Assuming my share of the night's heist will cover it.”

“Oh, it will,” she insisted, then turned to face him. “Alright, Rune. You've got yourself a deal. Let's see what kind of trouble we can stir up in Solstheim together.”

Rune gave her a pleased smile, thinking that she might turn out to be better company than he had initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun coming up with the idea for the heist in Windhelm. Initially, I just figured that Viola Giordano would be a good target, but hadn't decided on who would want to hire the Thieves Guild to go after her. So, I started looking up Windhelm residents in the Skyrim Wiki, noting Viola's obsession with Captain Lonely-Gale... only to find that Belyn Hlaalu also has several references to him in his dialogue. Given this 'strange fascination', as the Wiki states, I thought it was the perfect opportunity for a sordid love triangle scenario. I really enjoyed being able to tie in canon relationships between minor characters for this scene!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for chapter in end notes.

Within the hour, they had boarded the _Northern Maiden_ and were waiting for the ship to set sail. The Captain, a Nord by the name of Gjalund Salt-Sage, hadn't been eager to set out from the docks in the middle of the night, so he had invited them on board to wait until dawn. That was fine by Rune as long as they were able to stay out of sight; he had worn his hood low over his face to sneak back into the city, not wanting to risk running into Viola Giordano and being recognized. Sunrise was only a few hours away now, and he and Sapphire waited below deck for the vessel to make her departure.

“So,” she asked him after they had settled themselves in, “what's in Solstheim that has you so eager?”

Rune pulled his stone from its ever-present place in his pocket, and rolled it between his fingertips idly.

“A lead,” he replied. “It seems that the ship that brought me to Solitude may have sailed from there.”

“May have?” she questioned, “That doesn't seem like much to go on. And besides, it's been decades since then. How can you be sure that you'll find your answers there after all this time?”

“I'm not,” he admitted with a shake of his head, “This could well be a fool's errand.”

“And you're willing to throw yourself into the unknown on the slim chance that it isn't?” Sapphire's tone was somewhere between incredulous and concerned. He found himself flattered that she would spare some worry for him.

“Without a moment's hesitation,” Rune confirmed, his voice full of conviction. “It's the best clue I have at the moment, given that the dragon angle seems to have been somewhat of a dead end, and if this voyage can lead me to know who my parents were... my family... it'll be worth the trouble a hundred times over.”

Sapphire looked down at her hands in her lap, clearly preoccupied with her own thoughts, though he could only guess at what was going through her head.

“And if you do find what you're looking for...” she asked quietly, “what then?”

Rune realized in that moment that he really didn't know the answer to that question. “I... I suppose I haven't really thought about it before...” he admitted. “The search itself has been my priority for so long... I can't say what I'll do once it's over. I suppose it may depend on what I find.”

He leaned back on the trunk he was seated on, resting his hands behind him as he looked up at the wooden ceiling. “If I'm lucky enough to find my parents alive and well... then maybe we can have a life together, somehow...”

“So you'd leave the Guild?” Sapphire asked.

“Maybe...” he reflected, hesitating, “then again, it's all I've ever known, and all I'm good at. I'm not sure that I'd be willing to leave all that behind at the drop of a hat.”

He turned to his companion. “What about you?” he asked her, curious. “If you were in my position, looking for your parents, and you found them... would you think about starting a new life with them?”

Sapphire was thoughtful, then shook her head after a moment. “No... I don't think so,” she answered. “Not that having a family wouldn't be...” she faltered, then cleared her throat before continuing, “Like you, the Guild is who I am now. I could make room in my life for other things, but I couldn't leave it behind completely.”

Rune smiled slightly, her words seeming to settle the question in his mind. He'd spent so long searching, and if his quest truly was nearing its end, he thought that his life as it was would still have meaning after all was said and done. He may have started thieving as a way to survive, and continued as a means of pursuing the answers to the question of his past, but he couldn't imagine himself living a different life.

“You're a wise woman, Sapphire,” he offered. She seemed taken aback at his words, and he thought he detected the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks, but in the end, she only scoffed at him.

“Well, I could have told you that,” she snidely insisted, eliciting a hearty laugh from him.

* * *

After days of sailing, they finally came upon the town of Raven Rock, on the south-western coast of the island. As they stepped off the ship and onto the docks, Sapphire looked around her at the alien land of Solstheim. She'd never been outside of Skyrim before, and it was fascinating to see just how different things were here compared to home. The architecture in Raven Rock was like nothing she'd ever seen, and everything seemed just a bit... odd, to her eyes. But it was of no consequence; if there was profit to be made here, she would find it.

She turned towards Rune. “First things first,” she ventured, “we should find a merchant to sell our 'goods' to...” No one on Solstheim would know that the treasures they carried were stolen, of course, but the sooner they were rid of the loot and had coin in their pockets instead, the better.

“You're right,” he agreed, and stepped forward to inquire where he might find a general goods merchant from a nearby dock worker. The man pointed them in the direction of Raven Rock's marketplace, suggesting that they should look for someone by the name of Fethis Alor. Rune thanked him, giving him a winning smile, and they set off towards the marketplace.

How did Rune do it, she thought to herself idly. How did he manage to be so... _charming_ with everyone he spoke to? Sapphire did not have the patience to ply people to her will the way he did, and was content with relying on either stealth or brute force to get what she wanted. She supposed it was a skill that one must practice in order to perfect, like anything else. Regardless, while she and Rune were traveling together, she was happy to let him do the talking; so long as his methods were effective.

As if he had read her thoughts, once they reached the marketplace Rune leaned in towards her and suggested she let him handle the conversation. She agreed with a slight smile, eager to see what he had planned.

“Fethis Alor?” he asked good-naturedly, as he approached a Dunmer man with a broad assortment of goods on display at his stall. The man turned and blinked as he was addressed, and confirmed that he was, in fact, the person Rune sought.

“My name is Silas Octavian, and this is my associate, Ingrid,” Rune said, gesturing towards Sapphire. “We're merchants out of Skyrim looking to expand our operations into Solstheim.”

“Are you, now?” Alor replied skeptically. Even Sapphire could see that this mark would be a tough nut to crack. She hoped Rune was up to the challenge.

“Indeed, and we've come to Raven Rock looking for merchants such as yourself who may have an interest in trading with us. I assure you our goods are of the finest quality, and should you choose to work with us, you would be expanding your inventory with treasures unlike anything else available on Solstheim.”

“Really...?” Alor drawled, seemingly intrigued at the prospect, if still not entirely convinced. “And just what are these goods you're offering?”

Rune turned towards Sapphire. “Ingrid, if you would?” he asked her. Playing along, she reached into her pack for the bag of valuables she had lifted from Viola Giordano's manor. Finding a clear space on Alor's tabletop, she dumped out a few of the gems and pieces of jewelry from the bag. Alor's eyes widened at the sight.

“And there's more where that came from,” Rune assured the man with a smile, as Sapphire stood near the treasures protectively.

Alor took a moment to consider before he offered, “An interesting proposition.”

Rune continued his persuasion. “I understand that Raven Rock's chief source of prosperity was once the ebony mines. But did those mines ever produce gems, gold, and silver of this quality?”

“No...” Alor admitted. “Ebony and iron were the main products of the mines.”

“So then our goods would be sure to attract your customers with their rarity,” Rune surmised. “We would be happy to sell you the whole lot; unless of course, there are other merchants we should speak to while we're here...”

Sapphire stopped herself from smirking. Rune was good. Very good. From what she could see, Raven Rock was not a prosperous town, and she couldn't imagine that many people here were in the market for such frivolous luxuries, but Alor seemed to be seriously considering the prospect regardless. Fascinated, she waited with bated breath to see what the Dunmer would say.

Unfortunately, Alor heaved a sigh and shook his head. “You make a compelling case, but I'm afraid I simply don't have the funds to purchase such expensive goods in a lot this size.”

Rune did not let his smile slip. “If you'd be interested in purchasing a smaller sampling first, to gauge your customers' interest, we could work within your budget.”

Alor considered, then nodded. “Perhaps that would work... Why don't you show me what you have as far as jewelry, then?”

Once they had gone through the contents of the bag, they had managed to part with several rings and necklaces, as well as a jeweled circlet that Sapphire suspected would sit in Alor's inventory for months, if not years.

The transaction completed, Rune clasped Alor's shoulder. “My thanks, friend,” he offered with a smile, “We'll be certain to bring our wares to you again when next we're in Solstheim.” He then wished the man a good day as they took their leave of him.

As they stepped away, Sapphire couldn't help but give Rune an appraising look. “That was well played,” she admitted.

“And yet, we still retain most of our spoils,” he said with a hint of disappointment.

Sapphire shrugged. “Can't milk a stone,” she offered. “We may still find someone else willing to buy.”

She looked around the crowded marketplace, searching for anyone who they could convince was in need of their trinkets. The sound of a hammer striking steel brought her eyes over to the one house in Solstheim that did not resemble the others. While most of Raven Rock looked like it had been plucked straight out of Morrowind, this building would have been more at home in Skyrim than it was here.

“A smith...” she remarked curiously. “Think you can convince him to buy some gems to incorporate into his work?”

Rune considered her words, and a small smile soon graced his lips. “It's worth a try,” he ventured. “Come on,” he urged her as he stepped forward, “let's find out.”

Sapphire followed close behind as Rune made his way over to the smithy. She could already see the man in question working at his forge, and as she had suspected from the architecture of his house, the fellow was no Dunmer.

“Excuse me!” Rune called out in between the hammer blows, trying to catch the smith's attention. The Breton turned to see who had spoken. He took in Rune with a look of curiosity, and quickly glanced in Sapphire's direction.

His eyes widened when he saw her, his face seemingly draining of blood and his mouth hanging open.

“Sapphire...?” he breathed. “How did you find me?”

Sapphire's stomach sank at his words, and confusion filled her mind. Who was this man? How did he know who she was?

When she found her voice, she demanded, “How do you know my name? Explain yourself!”

“You... you didn't come here looking for me?” the man muttered, confusion evident in his expression.

“Why would I?” Sapphire brusquely asked. “Who in Oblivion _are_ you?”

The man's face showed hesitation. Sapphire wondered fleetingly if he regretted revealing his knowledge of her, but whether or not that was the case, she wouldn't let up until she got an answer from him.

“I...” he finally began, “My name is Glover Mallory. I relocated to Solstheim from Riften several years ago.”

“Wait...” Rune ventured, “Glover _Mallory_? Does that make you Delvin's-”

“Brother, yes,” the smith confirmed with a sigh. “Like you, I'm a member of the Thieves Guild,” he admitted in a hushed voice. His eyes continued to linger on Sapphire, and she wished in that moment that she could read people the way Rune did.

“So, what?” she asked accusingly, “Delvin told you about me, or something? Why do you keep looking at me like that, blacksmith?”

The man shook his head sadly, then offered, “It's a long story. Please come in, both of you.” He gestured to the door of his house and bid them follow as he entered.

Angry at being denied answers, Sapphire stalked through the door and stood stiffly, waiting.

“Sapphire, will you sit?” the smith asked her gently, as he took a seat at his table.

“Not until you tell me what's going on,” she answered tersely.

The man sighed, running a hand over his face. “I've been wanting to send you a letter for years now, explaining things... but I could never summon the courage...” he quietly confessed. “And now that we're face to face, I scarce know how to begin.”

Irritated by his cryptic reply, she impatiently waited for him to elaborate. By the Eight, what could the man be wanting to tell her that had him so shaken?

Finally, Glover spoke. “Many years ago, the Guild sent me on a mission to rob a supply caravan.” His eyes lingered on his hands instead of meeting hers as he spoke. “I was to travel to a tiny farming village near the border of Skyrim, and wait for the caravan to make a stop there. But I was a day early when I arrived... so I ended up sneaking into a barn at a pig farm to spend the night.”

He paused a moment, gazing up at nothing, his eyes shining in remembrance. “I woke up the next morning to a young woman coming into the barn to do her chores. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen... and somehow, my presence didn't frighten her. I think... we both fell in love, in that moment.”

Sapphire wondered why he was telling her all this. A thought niggled at the back of her mind, that she had grown up on a pig farm... but she didn't allow herself to pay attention to it. She waited for Glover to continue, instead.

“I forgot about that caravan, and I stayed there in that village with that woman for a year. But, eventually... I left,” he admitted, almost in a whisper. “Because...” he began, and hesitated, “because she was with child...” Glover now lifted his gaze to meet her own, his eyes full of chagrin as he finally confessed, “with you...”

Sapphire felt as if the ground had suddenly been ripped away from beneath her feet, her eyes wide as her mind struggled to reconcile what she had just learned with the reality she had grown up with. _No..._ she thought to herself, _I had a father. He was killed, along with the rest of them..._

“I was a coward,” Glover spat as he shook his head. “I should have stayed there, and taken responsibility for my family... but I was only thinking of myself,” he admitted. “I was a thief, and the last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of my days as a pig farmer...

I regretted that decision every day from then on,” he affirmed, “and I told myself that I should return and see you. But it was almost fifteen years before I found the courage. And by then... it was too late.” He sighed wistfully, his tone full of sorrow. “The village had been raided by bandits. They'd burnt it to the ground, and I had no idea if anyone had survived. I didn't know if you, my only child, still lived...”

His words brought back images and sensations to Sapphire's mind with stark clarity. Flames, heat and smoke. Sharp, panicked cries that pierced the night, competing in her ears with the frantic sound of her own pounding heart. Rough, callused hands grasping at her as she tried to kick them away...

 _It's all true..._ a small voice admitted in her mind. Glover was her father; her _real_ father.

“It wasn't until Brynjolf recruited you into the Guild that I learned that you had survived,” he continued, unaware of the jarring realization that had her struggling to grasp what he was now saying. “When I saw you, I knew.” He looked at her, and his lips turned up into a faint smile, despite the sadness that continued to linger in his eyes. “Even from afar, you looked just like your mother...” he said, his voice full of affection.

“I finally had a chance to tell you everything, to set things right... but I was still a coward,” he regretfully confessed. “Instead of facing your anger, I left Riften. I ran away once more.” He shook his head, his lips tightly pressed together into a bitter line of disappointment. “I didn't even tell Delvin the truth of who you were. I didn't want him to be as ashamed of me as I was of myself.”

Taking a deep breath, Glover continued. “That's how I found myself here, on Solstheim. And all these years, I've lived with the shame and regret of my actions, knowing that you were within my grasp, and failing to reach out to you.” He rose from his seat now, his expression pleading as he took a single step forward in her direction.

“Sapphire... my daughter...” his voice cracked at the words, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was never there for you. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could go back and fix my mistakes. But now that you're here, and that you know the truth... I hope that, someday... you'll be able to forgive me.”

For several long moments, Sapphire was utterly silent. She stared at the floor, trying to parse the jumble of emotions that she was feeling.

They'd come to Solstheim to find Rune's parents, not hers... this revelation was the last thing she had been expecting. The family she'd grown up with, who'd been killed in that bandit attack... the man she'd called father... all of it had been a lie.

Her real father had run away when her mother had been pregnant. He'd left them behind. He hadn't been there to protect her when the bandits had come. How might things have been different if he had?

Lifting her gaze, she met Glover's eyes.

“You...” she began numbly, “you're... my father...” The words sounded strange coming out of her mouth.

He let out a heavy sigh. “You deserved a better father than me.”

Sapphire shook her head in disbelief, the ghost of tears beginning to prick at her eyes. “All this time...” she murmured bitterly, “I cursed my family for not fighting back when the bandits came, for not protecting me. But you... you had abandoned me long before then. You left me to grow up in poverty. I was vulnerable... and I was so young...”

Her eyes turned hard, and they flashed with fury as she looked at Glover. At her _father_.

“My life was miserable on that farm, but it was nothing compared to what I suffered when we were attacked. What you failed to protect me from,” she accused bitterly. “Those bandits didn't stop at killing, you know. They kidnapped me,” she bit off the words, “they _raped_ me,” she hurled at him, “they kept me as their prize and shared me between the whole _fucking_ band!”

Glover flinched with each admission as if she had struck him physically. His face was red and tears filled his eyes; with shame or pity, she could not say, but neither would appease her anger.

“It was only my wits and my courage that saved me then,” she told him in a flat voice, “neither of which, I suspect, I got from you.” The blacksmith sat back down as tears were now running freely down his face. “I found a knife, and when the bandits were asleep... I slit their throats,” she explained, almost clinically. “But only after they had used me for a fortnight...” she continued, hurt creeping back into her tone. “I was _fourteen years old,_ ” she finished, her voice cracking on that last.

Glover brought his hands up to his face and wept. The blacksmith shook with shuddering sobs as Sapphire stood there watching him. Her pain was old, but it had never truly left her. For him, it was fresh. She almost pitied him. Almost.

Sapphire cast one last gaze at the man she now knew to be her father. A tiny part of her that she refused to acknowledge yearned to take him into her arms, to assure him that all was forgiven, that they could be a family... But instead, she focused on her resentment, and on her pain. The man made her sick.

Swiftly turning on her heel, she stalked out the door and into the streets of Raven Rock.

It was a moment before she recognized Rune's voice calling out to her as she strode away. She had nearly forgotten about him, such was her preoccupation with her thoughts.

She spun towards him, and raised a pointed finger nearly into his face as he skidded to a halt beside her. “Don't you dare say a word!” she warned fiercely, unwilling to entertain his observations on the matter, keen or otherwise.

“I won't,” he promised with both hands raised in a placating gesture. “I was just going to ask where you were going,” he explained.

She stood down, turning away from him. “I don't know,” she admitted quietly.

“Then might I suggest we find the town's inn?” he offered. “It's nearly evening. We should get ourselves something to eat, don't you think?”

Sapphire found that she had no appetite, but agreed to his suggestion with a shrug nonetheless. They couldn't talk if they were eating, after all... and the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was talk.

After making a discreet inquiry, Rune learned that the town's only inn, The Retching Netch (whatever that meant), was nearby. The two of them made their way there in short order, descending the staircase to the main part of the building. They found two empty seats at the bar and sat down.

The establishment's owner, a Dunmer by the name of Geldis Sadri, greeted them and took their order. Sapphire told him that she didn't much care what he served her, as long as it was accompanied by alcohol. Sadri's smile widened at her comment.

“Well, if it's drink you want, outlander, then you're in luck,” he assured her. “We serve the finest sujamma that will ever grace your lips.” He accompanied the statement with a large golden bottle that he set down in front of them, along with two cups which he pulled out from underneath the bar.

As soon as hers was filled, Sapphire brought the drink to her lips and chugged it down. She then set it down again, pushing the cup forward with her fingertips, and a curt command of _More_.

Sadri gladly obliged, then turned away, assuring them that he would be back with their meals shortly. Sapphire could practically feel Rune's eyes boring into her skull from where he sat beside her.

“What?” she stated more than asked, never turning her gaze towards him as she took another, more measured sip of sujamma. Sadri hadn't been lying; the drink was rather good, but more importantly, quite potent.

“Nothing,” Rune countered mildly, and she didn't need his vaunted insight to know that his answer was, at best, an exaggeration, if not an outright lie.

Tipping back her cup, she took another drink, letting the sujamma swirl around her mouth for a moment before she swallowed it, then simply countered with an offhand _Bullshit._

She heard his quiet chuckle at her response, and he took a moment before answering. “I suppose I just wonder whether drinking yourself into a stupor will really accomplish anything,” he candidly admitted.

Still neglecting to meet his eyes, Sapphire pointedly drained the rest of her cup before answering. “Not your business, Rune,” she countered bluntly.

“Which is why I wasn't going to say anything,” he tactfully insisted.

“Good,” was her only response. The well-timed arrival of their meals, delivered with a smile by Sadri himself, gratefully cut their conversation short. She hoped that Rune would keep his mouth stuffed with food long enough for her to collect herself before he decided he wanted to talk. She knew he would, despite his attempts at being diplomatic. He was always flapping that pretty mouth of his, after all.

* * *

By the time they had finished their meal and drinks, Sapphire felt pleasantly loose-limbed and, admittedly, somewhat tipsy. It wasn't that late yet, but they had had a long day and Rune suggested that they retire for the night. She let him make the room arrangements, and soon Sadri motioned for them to follow. As she rose from her seat, Sapphire nearly stumbled, but she thought she managed to cover the blunder. She didn't want to let Rune see how much the sujamma was affecting her, if she could help it.

The Dunmer led them around a corner and opened the door to one of the rooms, gesturing inside and telling them it was theirs for the night. They entered, and looking around, Sapphire barked out a laugh.

“You trying to be funny, Rune? Is that it?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Ah, master Sadri...” her companion began in a concerned tone, “would you happen to have a room with _two_ beds available instead?”

The Dunmer was speechless a moment as he realized his mistake. “Yes, of course. My sincere apologies,” he offered, “I should not have assumed.”

Sapphire snorted, wondering why she found the situation so humorous all of a sudden, and the innkeeper led them away from the offending suite to find one with double occupancy. “Will this do?” the man asked as he opened another door.

Rune sighed with what she assumed was relief at the sight of a second bed in the room they now found themselves in. “Yes, this will be perfect, thank you,” he replied with a resolute nod. She was almost offended that he seemed so grateful at not having to share a bed with her. Not that _she_ wasn't equally grateful, or course...

As the Dunmer left them, Sapphire went over to claim the further of the two beds for herself, laying her bags down on the floor next to it.

She sat with her back to Rune, and simply gazed at the wall for a time. In the quiet away from the rowdy common room, she found her thoughts turning back to Glover. She didn't want to think about him; that was why she had indulged in so much drink, after all. But he seemed to have dug himself into a corner of her mind and refused to leave. Just like a man to make a nuisance of himself, she thought.

Ironically, the man she was sharing a room with chose that very moment to become a nuisance as well. “You okay, Sapphire?” Rune asked gently, his voice colored with concern.

She sighed heavily. “I'm fine,” she insisted, “let's just go to sleep.” She roughly pulled off her boots, and threw back the bed furs in irritation, settling herself down onto the thin mattress. She pulled the furs up to her shoulders, still turned towards the wall.

“It's only that...” Rune began hesitantly.

Sapphire let out an exasperated breath and rolled over to face him. “It's only _what_?” she demanded. If Rune wasn't going to let this go, then he could at least spit out his concerns plainly and then let her sleep in peace.

“Well... you just found your father,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and what of it?” she asked impatiently.

Sitting on his bed, Rune looked away from her irritated gaze. “I suppose I wonder whether you'll ever forgive him,” he explained, then met her eyes again. “He hurts for you...” he ventured.

“Yes, well, I was hurt because of him, so I think we're even,” she stated stiffly.

“Were you?” came Rune's gentle question.

Sapphire could only stare at him in disbelief, her shock clear on her face. “How can you ask that?” she spat, “You did hear what I said in there, didn't you?”

She saw the sympathy in his eyes, and it almost made her angrier. There was a reason she hadn't discussed her past with the others in the Guild. She didn't want them walking on eggshells around her, or treating her like she was broken.

“I didn't mean...” Rune began, shaking his head. He tried again, “I mean was it really his fault, what happened to you?”

Sapphire didn't say anything. What was he getting at?

“If anyone's to blame,” he continued, “it's those bandits. And it sounds like you gave them what they deserved.”

“But if Glover hadn't left, he would have been there to protect me,” she argued.

“Perhaps... but it sounds like he truly regrets not being there for you,” Rune countered. “Does punishing him now really accomplish anything?”

Sapphire bristled. “I have a right to my anger, Rune,” she warned tightly.

He shook his head. “I never said you don't,” he clarified, “but anger will only take you so far. All I'm saying is that, maybe... choosing to forgive him, and considering having a relationship with him, might be healthier for _you_. Besides, weren't you the one who told me that we can't change the past, so it's best to look forward?”

“Why do you care?” she shot back, irked as his presumption.

“Because what you've just found, Sapphire? It's what I've been looking for my whole life,” he said earnestly. “You've found your real father, and he may have made mistakes, but he cares for you.”

He looked into her eyes, imparting his sincerity through his gaze. “When we were in Windhelm, you said you had similar motivations to my own. You said you wanted family, that you wanted a home. Well, now you've _found_ family. You have a father... and an uncle, for that matter!” He shook his head ruefully. “I can only hope to find the same while we're here. But I might not get so lucky.”

Sapphire considered his words, then let out a heavy sigh. She supposed he had a point, but she found herself unwilling to admit it. “I'll think about it,” was ultimately all she offered in answer.

Rune favored her with a smile. “That's all I ask,” he replied. Damn him and that smile, she thought. She wanted to stay angry, and he had to go and mollify her with his pretty words and his pretty smile. She wished he would shut his pretty face.

Her irritation continuing to simmer, she called out an order of _Go to bed, Rune_ , as she rolled over on the mattress once more.

She heard the warm sound of his chuckle as he set to that very task, followed by the thud of his heavy boots hitting the floor, and the creaking of the bed frame as he settled himself.

A moment later, he had blown out the single candle by his bedside, leaving the room in darkness. A deep silence lingered after that, but Sapphire found herself unable to sleep. She tossed and turned in the bed, much like her thoughts tossed and turned throughout her mind.

She didn't know if it was the drink, or the fact that she wasn't used to sharing anything of herself, but there was one thought that wouldn't leave her. A worry, truthfully. She felt as if it needed to be put to rest before her mind would allow sleep to claim her. She lay on her back, her eyes open to the darkness, as she tried to summon the courage to speak.

Hesitating, her heart racing as she dared to put her thoughts to words, she softly called out _Rune?_ into the night, almost hoping that he was already asleep and wouldn't answer.

“Yes?” came his soft reply. The single word sent a thrill of panic racing through her veins, but she couldn't take it back now.

“You... you won't think... differently... of me now, will you? Now that you know?” She bit her lip in anticipation of his answer.

“Differently how?” he asked, seemingly confused by the question.

“I just... I don't want to be pitied, because of what happened to me,” she admitted quietly.

It was a long moment before she heard his reply in the darkness. “Sapphire... “ he began, his voice ringing with sincerity, “if anything, knowing what you've been through only makes me admire you more,” he confessed. “I always knew that you were strong, but... to have survived what you did? That makes you incredible.”

Sapphire allowed herself a lopsided smile at his words. Good old Rune. Always the sweet talker, that one. Nonetheless, his regard for her was causing a welcome warmth to bloom in her chest, as well as sending a flush of heat to her cheeks. She was grateful that he couldn't see her.

Whether her dreamy smile was a result of his words, or her intoxication, or both, Sapphire was unable to chase the expression away. Instead, she rolled over onto her side and murmured _Good night, Rune_ , her fuzzy thoughts barely catching his response before sleep took her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to rape. Also references to alcohol use.


	5. Chapter 5

As if slowly coming out of a daze, Rune awoke. It took him a moment to realize what was happening as the fog lifted from his brain, and he saw that he was not in the bed he had gone to sleep in. He found himself standing, in the early light of dawn, in front of some sort of stone structure. It had a tall central pillar surrounded by half-built stone arches, and the sunken center was filled with a shallow pool of water. Strangely, he had a hammer in hand and was paused mid-swing. What in Oblivion was going on?

Shaking the last of the cobwebs from his mind, he let the hammer fall to splash into the pool beneath him, and looked around at his surroundings. He was not alone; there were others gathered around the monument, some with faces he remembered seeing in the common room of The Retching Netch last night, and they seemed to be working away at the structure that was being built around it. Sapphire was among them.

He hurriedly stepped up to her. “Sapphire,” he said, trying to get her attention. She did not seem to hear him, and only continued striking her hammer to stone, muttering under her breath. He tried again, taking her by the shoulders and turning her towards him. “Sapphire! Can you hear me?” he called out, shaking her gently.

He saw her eyes gradually focus on his until she blinked and seemed to finally acknowledge his presence. “Rune?” she asked, confused, “What's going on? Where are we?”

“I have no bloody idea,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “Do you remember anything after going to bed at the inn?”

Sapphire's brow was furrowed as she pondered the question. “No... I don't...” she finally answered, lifting a hand to her head with a grimace. “You're telling me that's not just from the sujamma?” she asked, pale-faced.

“If it was just a hangover, I doubt I'd be affected. I drank a lot less than you did, after all,” was his blunt reply.

“So how did we get here?” she asked. “Wherever 'here' is?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Rune offered. Stepping away from her, he cautiously strode into the pool to approach the others who were gathered around the stone pillar. He tried asking them for answers, but they ignored him completely, seemingly caught in the same sort of trance that Sapphire had been. No matter his efforts, they would not respond.

Exhaling in frustration, Rune turned back, running a hand through his hair. As his gaze focused on the low stone border around the outside of the structure, he froze and his breath caught. Hurrying closer to the edge of the wide circular landing, he knelt down to run his hand reverently over the familiar-looking symbols that were carved into the stone.

“What is it?” Sapphire asked with a note of alarm as she approached.

“These runes...” he answered in a disbelieving whisper, “they're just like the ones on my stone... And they're not arranged like those on the word wall were.” He pulled his stone from his pocket, comparing them, only to confirm that the arrangement of the symbols was startlingly similar. “But why would there be Draconic runes here, on Solstheim?” he breathed.

He almost jumped out of his skin when a nearby voice suddenly called out _You there!_

Rising and turning towards the voice, he saw a robed, severe-looking Dunmer approaching. “You don't seem to be in same state as the others,” he mused. “Very interesting...”

“And you are?” Sapphire inquired with a raised brow.

“Hmm?” the stranger replied. “I am Master Neloth of House Telvanni. You must be new to Solstheim, to be unfamiliar with a wizard of my standing,” the man observed. “My citadel, Tel Mythrin, sits among the ash wastes at the south-eastern tip of the island.”

Rune looked around, noting the coastline nearby. There was a path leading off from the monument, and he could see the same mountainous cliffs that Raven Rock was built against hulking in the distance.

Taking the opportunity, he decided to question the wizard. “Where exactly are we, then? We went to sleep in Raven Rock last night, and woke up... here,” he finished with a gesture toward the monument under construction.

“Ah, fascinating,” Neloth muttered to himself. “So, you were enthralled as well and don't remember making your way to the Earth Stone?”

“That's what he just said,” Sapphire impatiently answered. “What is this Earth Stone, anyway? And what are these people doing to it?”

“It is one of the six All-Maker Stones which can be found on this island,” the wizard explained offhandedly. “As for what these people are doing, I daresay they're building something. Haven't the faintest idea of what, of course, though I am quite curious to find out what will happen once they've finished.”

“Well, that's hardly helpful,” Sapphire scoffed. “Don't you know anything that could be of use to us? I thought wizards were meant to be knowledgeable and wise,” she remarked in retort.

Neloth drew himself up in outrage. “How dare you?!” he sputtered, “I'll have you know that I'm the greatest wizard you're ever likely to meet! Show some respect,” he spat at Sapphire. She only crossed her arms and shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with his ire.

Sensing that the situation was rapidly becoming hostile, Rune inserted himself into the fray, hoping to smooth things over.

“Of course, Master Neloth,” he assured the wizard, “we wouldn't dream of doubting your abilities. Would we, Sapphire?” he stated pointedly, his eyes shooting daggers in his companion's direction. She sighed and uncrossed her arms, conceding an unenthusiastic _I suppose._

The dark elf was still eyeing her antagonistically, so Rune tried to divert his attention. “Master Neloth, you mentioned that there are several of these All-Maker Stones on the island. If I might ask, are there similar activities occurring around the others?”

“Oh yes, indeed there are,” Neloth responded, letting himself be distracted by the question. “At least, I'm aware of some reavers being lured out to the Sun Stone to the north of Tel Mythrin. It stands to reason that the other stones are being affected as well,” he concluded confidently.

Rune didn't know what to make of this whole discussion of trances and All-Maker Stones. He had come to Solstheim to try and discover his past, not to investigate a series of strange occurrences. But perhaps Neloth could help answer Rune's questions as well.

“Tell me, Master Neloth...” he began, “do you know anything about these symbols carved into the base of the structure?”

The wizard approached and took a closer look at the runes. “Hmm... well, I can't say that I know what they signify, exactly, but I have seen them around the Sun Stone as well.”

“You have?” Rune asked, taken aback. “So, it's likely they're connected to the Stones, somehow?”

“That would be a reasonable conclusion, yes,” the Dunmer confirmed impatiently. “In any case, I really should be returning to my research.”

Without so much as a goodbye, the wizard simply began walking away. Rune met Sapphire's quizzical gaze with his own.

“Well, he's a strange one,” she remarked with a furrowed brow, then asked, “What do you make of what he said?”

“I'm not sure...” Rune answered, still confused about what was going on. “Whatever happened to us... if it's connected to the All-Maker Stones, then it might also be connected to the runes.”

“I suppose that's possible,” Sapphire conceded, “but how do we find out for sure?”

“I don't think there's anything more we can learn here... but maybe visiting these other Stones could tell us something.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “But we'll have to find out where they are first, won't we?”

“Well, there must be someone in Raven Rock who can tell us,” he ventured. “Perhaps we can buy a map... Come on,” he encouraged her, beginning to make his way down the packed earthen trail that would surely lead back to the town. “Let's get some breakfast and then see what we can find out.”

* * *

Indeed, Rune's hunch had been correct, and the trail leading away from the Earth Stone soon took them back to Raven Rock. Breakfast being the first order of business, they made their way back to the inn, Geldis Sadri offering a greeting as they sat down.

“Good morning! How was your stay?” he kindly inquired. “You must have been up before the sun; I didn't see you leave,” he commented casually.

Rune and Sapphire's eyes met at the innkeeper's words. “Yes,” Rune dissembled, not wanting to give away too much before he understood what was going on. “We're quite the early birds, and nothing wakes you up quite like a brisk walk. The sunrise was lovely,” he remarked with a polite smile.

Sadri asked what he could bring them, offering Sapphire another jug of sujamma, since she'd been so fond of it last night. Rune saw her face turn slightly green at the prospect, and he quickly countered the suggestion, insisting that tea would be fine.

Sadri went off to see to their meal, and Rune quirked a brow at Sapphire. “How are you feeling, anyway?” he couldn't help but tease her. He didn't want to bring up their conversation from the night before, unsure where they stood on the subject sober and in the light of day, but he could at least poke fun at his comrade's hungover state.

She groaned and lay her head onto her folded arms on the tabletop. “I suppose if we were in that trance for most of the night, I probably did more hammering than sleeping,” came her muffled reply.

Rune chuckled. “I suppose it brings new meaning to the phrase 'getting hammered', doesn't it?”

Sapphire raised her head and met his eyes with a murderous glare, clearly unamused by his jape.

He took pity on her, and offered, “If you need more rest, you can feel free to stay here and lie down while I go out in search of a map.”

She shook her head. “I'll be fine,” she insisted, “as long as that tea's a strong brew, anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied nonchalantly. He would be glad of her company; he was getting used to having her around – frowns, biting comments, and all.

Once they had eaten their breakfast and enjoyed a mug of (thankfully) strong tea, they headed out into the market square straight away. Rune preferred to steer clear of Fethis Alor, in case the man had had second thoughts about the wisdom of his purchases from the day before. He wondered who else might have a map of the island for sale – a quick question to a passing member of the Redoran Guard only returned Alor's name, and that was no help.

Deciding to try his own luck, Rune approached another merchant's stand, Sapphire following close behind him. The Dunmer's wares seemed to comprise food, mostly, if those strange-looking things were in fact root vegetables. At their approach, the man offered them a friendly smile.

“Good day to you,” he greeted them, “can I interest you in some of our fine ash-yams?”

Rune returned his smile, and answered, “Thank you, but no. We were actually looking to purchase a map of the island.”

“I imagine so. Unfortunately, I only sell foodstuffs. My apologies. You might try Fethis Alor; his stall is just over yonder,” the man pointed out.

Thinking quickly, Rune answered, “Yes, I was just speaking to master Alor, but it would seem that he's currently out of stock as far as maps go.” He frowned in disappointment for added effect. “You're certain you don't know of any other way to procure a map here in town?”

The Dunmer looked pensive for a moment, then nodded. “Tell you what,” he offered, “I should have an old copy of a map myself that I could part with. Why don't you head inside and ask my wife Milore to fetch it for you?”

“That is most kind of you,” Rune gratefully professed. “How much for your map, master...?”

“Ienth,” he answered, “Garyn Ienth. And the map is yours, free of charge.”

Rune praised the farmer for his generosity, insisting that he was being too kind, but accepted his offer nonetheless. After all, what thief worth his salt would pay for something when he didn't need to?

He and Sapphire stepped up to the entrance of the farmhouse just to their left, and Rune knocked on the door. A Dunmer woman answered. “Mistress Ienth?” Rune asked, and she nodded in confirmation. “Your husband Garyn offered to part with his map of the island, as we were unable to locate a copy for ourselves,” Rune explained to her.

The woman nodded. “Of course. Allow me to find it for you,” she offered, inviting them inside.

After a few moments of searching, Milore Ienth returned, a battered old map in hand. As long as it was legible and accurate, Rune didn't much care what state it was in.

“So, what brings a pair or outlanders to Solstheim?” she asked politely.

“We were hoping to visit the All-Maker Stones,” he answered, “and this map will help us find them.” He flashed white teeth at her in a charming smile, hoping to discourage further questions.

“Is that so?” she replied, her curiosity evidently stoked. “To what end, if you don't mind my asking?”

Rune was unsure how to answer her. He supposed there was no use being secretive; perhaps if he was more open about his business, he might come to learn something useful more easily.

“Just investigating something curious,” he explained. “There are some interesting runes carved into the base of the Earth Stone. I'll admit I'm intrigued as to what they might mean. Perhaps visiting the other Stones will shine some light on the mystery.”

“That does sound fascinating...” Milore admitted, her eyes bright with inquisitiveness. “I haven't bothered to visit the Earth Stone myself, I confess,” she continued, “What did the runes look like?”

Perhaps this woman could suggest an answer of some kind, Rune thought. He reached into his pocket for his stone, and pulled it forth. “They were quite similar to these,” he remarked, handing the stone to her.

Milore's eyes widened as she reached over to pick up the stone with trembling fingers. She held it almost reverently as she examined it, then her eyes shot up to meet his.

“Where did you get this?” she asked breathlessly.

Her question startled Rune. Did she know something?

“You've seen it before?” he asked, his heart racing in anticipation.

Milore nodded. “I have... but that must have been, what? Thirty years ago, now?”

Thirty years... The exact amount of time since he had washed up on the shores of Solitude. Rune couldn't believe it.

He took a step closer to the Dunmer woman, his tone pleading, all deception and secrecy forgotten. “This stone is the only clue I have to finding out about my past. Thirty years ago, I was in a shipwreck, and since then I've had no memory of anything that happened before that moment. But this stone was found in my pocket...” Desperate, Rune took Milore's hand in his own. “Please! If you know something, you must tell me!”

She looked up at his face, recognition dawning across her features. “Marcus...?” she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Marcus? Who was Marcus? Could it be...?

“It is you...” Milore murmured as she lifted a hand to lightly stroke his cheek. “You have her eyes...” A tear rolled down the dark elf's face.

Rune's head was spinning. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “Please...” he whispered urgently, “tell me?”

Milore took a deep breath then, composing herself. “You say you don't remember...” she began, “but I knew you, once. You, and your mother, both.”

“My mother...” Rune breathed.

Milore smiled. “Her name,” she said, “was Dominica.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're finally getting somewhere! What do you think Rune (or should I say Marcus?) will learn about his mother? How did she know Milore Ienth? Can Milore be trusted? Share your thoughts in the comments!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for chapter in end notes.
> 
> This chapter marks the beginning of a flashback sequence. From here on, the story may go back and forth between flashbacks and present events, but there will be a date noting the change at the top of the chapter each time it does.

_**Solstheim, 4E 165** _

Dominica Maecilius was the head of her order at the Temple of Miraak. She had not come to this position easily; as an outlander to Solstheim and an Imperial besides, she had been mistrusted by her brethren from the start. She never let that stop her from devoting herself to her duties. She had spent years of study in Cyrodiil learning all that she could of the ancient dragon priest Miraak, and her fascination had finally led her to relocate to this island so that she may join the faith in his name.

Her efforts had borne fruit, and she was now in charge of the rebuilding efforts for Lord Miraak's temple. It was still decades away from completion, of course, but she had been instrumental in organizing the ragtag band of worshipers she had found when she had first arrived into a disciplined order of brothers and sisters in service to their Lord. She had also spearheaded a recruitment initiative that had seen their numbers swell fourfold. Together, they would devote themselves to bringing Lord Miraak back into the world, so that he may rule over them directly, as was his destiny.

As Arch Priestess, she spent her days overseeing work on the temple, when she was not conducting services or otherwise engaged in prayer or research. According to legend, the dragons had razed Lord Miraak's temple with their flaming breath after turning against him, and so the ancient ruin had been in a sorry state when the Order had begun. Excavation was the first step, and though they had uncovered many rooms underground so far, it was impossible to know how much more lay beneath the earth.

There was enough usable space for the Order to have relocated inside of the temple, with a small chapel, sleeping quarters, and a kitchen among the rooms. Despite this, no one would have ever suggested that the temple was a comfortable place to live, but it suited the Order's needs, and that was good enough for Dominica. She wanted to be nearby as the excavation continued, and she suspected that much more awaited their continued efforts.

New challenges were presenting themselves the deeper they dug. They had already lost two of their number after having unintentionally freed several draugr from their forgotten tomb while excavating a massive chamber. Dominica was glad that she had insisted years ago that all members of the Order should learn to wield Destruction magic, or more of them would have surely been lost in the attack. Now that they knew what dangers awaited them, she was making sure that everyone was better prepared moving forward.

She had considered that it would be far less risky to hire some of the miners from the town of Raven Rock to conduct the excavation on the Order's behalf. Unfortunately, given the nature of the Order's mission, they could not afford to operate in the open; it was imperative that they maintain as much secrecy as they could in regards to their activities. This had led her to consider... _alternative_ ways that they might bring in outsiders to help with the work. Her mastery of Illusion magic was nowhere near on par with her talents in Destruction, but she knew enough to consider a plan that just might solve their problem. If the folk from Raven Rock could be put into a suggestive trance and ordered to work on the temple without retaining any memory of their efforts, then the excavation could proceed at a much faster pace. She had been working on perfecting this very spell for several weeks now, though it was presenting quite a challenge. She might well be out of her depth, but she would keep trying.

Sitting at her desk, bent over the book she was studying, Dominica let out a yawn as she leaned back in an indulgent stretch. Her spine let out a satisfying pop, and she sighed at the sensation. She lifted her mask to rub at her eyes before replacing it onto her face. She had been delving into her research for hours and she knew she should have been asleep by now, but she couldn't help herself; it was all too fascinating. She had made this new discovery herself nearly a week ago, but even so, she found it difficult not to lose herself in this particular topic. It seemed that there may be a way to bring Lord Miraak back into the world sooner than by means of rebuilding his temple. She had found reference to an ancient rite that could be performed in order to free their Lord from his exile in the plane of Oblivion.

The main issue was that it required the sacrifice of one who shared the blood of the person who was to be brought back. Lord Miraak had walked the land of Nirn thousands of years ago, and no one knew whether he had any surviving descendants to this day. It would have been easy to find the answer if the Order had somehow had a sample of Lord Miraak's blood, by means of a simple tracking spell. However, since that was impossible, Dominica had instead set the Order's best scholars to conducting genealogical research, to discover whether a descendant existed. In the meantime, however, Dominica continued studying the rite in preparation. If a descendant could be found, then she wanted to be ready. And if not, then the excavation and rebuilding of the temple would continue regardless, and one day, it would be prepared to receive their Lord upon his return.

She shut the book before her after marking her page for the morrow, and rose to prepare herself for sleep. At that moment, a knock sounded at the door of her chambers.

“Yes?” she called out in a clear voice.

The door opened to admit one of the junior acolytes she utilized as messengers. His mask hid his face, so she was unsure exactly which acolyte he was. That was the downside of the Order donning full-face masks at all times, but Dominica had found that their usefulness outweighed any inconveniences they caused; not only were the masks a powerful symbol and reminder of the Lord they served, but she had arranged for them to be enchanted with protection magic to keep members of the Order safe. In addition, the anonymity they afforded was a necessity for whenever any followers of Miraak needed to venture outside the temple – they couldn't let any of the other residents of Solstheim know who they were, after all.

Besides, as Arch Priestess, she put great effort into recognizing members of the order, the senior ranking ones, at least, by way of other attributes. Brother Nelthis, for example, had a distinctive gait, and Sister Medra's rich and sonorous voice was unmistakable. She just needed to figure out a system for telling the acolytes apart; for all she knew, some of them could be getting their peers into trouble by shifting the blame for actions they themselves were at fault for, and she would never be the wiser. But the acolytes were Sister Adeline's purview – Dominica would leave their discipline to her discretion.

The young man bowed as he entered. “Arch Priestess,” he greeted, humility in his tone, “I was sent to inform you that the excavation of the latest chamber is complete.”

“Very good,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. “Was anything of interest found?”

“Yes, Arch Priestess,” he continued, “Brother Eiydas said that many artifacts were uncovered. With such a cache, he suspects that the room was once used for an important function.”

Dominica rubbed her hands together eagerly. This sounded promising... sleep could wait, she decided.

“I would see these artifacts for myself,” she told the young acolyte, “lead me to this chamber, if you will.”

“Of course, Arch Priestess,” came his reply as he bowed once more.

She followed the acolyte as he led her through the bowels of the temple, past the inhabited areas and through more recently uncovered corridors and rooms. Here, the air was thick with dust, and a heavy coating of dirt remained on the floors, with bits of rubble near the walls here and there. At least it was well lit; sconces had been affixed into the walls every twenty feet or so, and acolytes checked the torches daily to make sure they didn't go out.

Her guide finally pointed out the entrance to the chamber she sought, then bowed and hurried away as she dismissed him. Dominica gingerly stepped over some broken stone that had yet to be cleared away as she entered the room. It was small, perhaps a study of sorts, based on its contents. A large stone table stood to one side of the room, littered with broken bottles and miscellaneous bits of wood and rock. Bookshelves lined the other walls, but all of the tomes that sat upon them had long since rotted, to her dismay.

She noted a pile of objects in one corner; most likely Eiydas had gathered everything that might be of interest together for later examination. She sat on the floor beside the pile, unconcerned by the fact that she would likely soil her robes with dirt by doing so. She began sorting through the artifacts; she gave them only a cursory examination prompted by her own curiosity – she knew that Eiydas would have acolytes help him to catalog everything properly soon enough. She was on the lookout for anything unusual that might give them new insight into the temple's activities when it had last been active. What she had really been hoping to find were more books, but since all of them seemed to be decayed past legibility, perhaps another source of knowledge could be uncovered. As she worked her way through the assortment of objects, her hand came to rest upon a hard metal surface. She cleared away the remaining artifacts around it, and found that the object in question was a heavy metal strongbox. It must have already been sitting in this location when it was uncovered, and so Eiydas had directed his assistants to gather the other artifacts around it.

Decidedly curious, Dominica tried to open the latch, unsurprised to find it locked. She bit her lip, considering, then smirked as she raised a hand to take down the hood of her robes. She pulled free one of the long steel pins which held her hair up in a neat chignon. It had been some time since she'd last needed to resort to lockpicking, but she suspected she could still manage it. After a few minutes of careful fiddling, she heard a satisfying click and tried once again to open the lid. It took a bit of muscle, but finally, the hinges squeaked as the lid opened.

Inside, in addition to a few gems and coins, she found what she had been seeking: books – five volumes of varying sizes, to be exact. A slow smile crept across her face as she pulled them out. She wanted to crack them open right away, but the cold from the stone floor was beginning to make its way past the thick wool of her robes, so she stood and placed the volumes on the stone table. Pulling a bit of parchment along with a quill and inkpot from her pouch (she was never without writing implements; one never knew when the need for taking notes would arise), she wrote a quick tally of the contents of the strongbox for Eiydas upon his return, informing him that the Arch Priestess had removed five books from it and had brought them to her chambers for study.

Satisfied with her discovery, she gathered the books under her arm and made her way back to her rooms. Upon arrival, she set them onto the desk in her study, laying them side by side so she could examine them more closely. She ran her fingers lightly across the cover of each of them, giddy at the prospect of the knowledge inside. When her touch swept across the final tome, bound in inky black, she felt a faint tingle creep from her fingertips through her arm. She pulled back in surprise, wondering whether she had imagined the sensation. Before she could reach over again, she was overwhelmed by a jaw-splitting yawn that made her eyes water in its intensity. Right, she remembered; it was _very_ late. If she let herself get caught up in these books tonight, surely she would be reading until dawn. Best leave them for now and get some sleep. The books would still be there on the morrow.

* * *

That night, Dominica's dreams were troubled. She walked through an endless dark maze of books, piles of them as tall as trees all around her under a strangely green sky. She felt unseen eyes upon her, and when she turned, she could see no one. Just when she thought that the unending chaos of this terrain did not change no matter how far she traveled, she suddenly came across a large dark pool, its surface rippling gently as if something was moving beneath it. She found herself frozen in place, and could not move as she witnessed a massive tentacle slowly breaking the surface. She watched in horror as it extended itself, rising taller and taller above the pool. Her heart pounded in her chest as the thick appendage began to slither towards her, then wrapped itself around her. It tightened its grip on her body, beginning to squeeze the air from her lungs. A frozen cry remained caught in her throat; despite her utter panic, she could do nothing but wait as the force exerting on her torso squeezed and squeezed, so strongly that she feared her ribs would soon crack. She felt her heart beating frantically and her eyes filling with desperate tears as her mouth opened in a silent scream of terror, and a low, rasping voice suddenly filled her head with the words _You are mine..._

Jerking upright in her bed, Dominica woke covered in sweat. She forced her frantic breathing to slow, reminding herself that it had only been a dream. Her unease lingered as she rose to pour herself a cup of water, and drained it nearly in one gulp. Her shift was soaked in sweat, so she stripped it off and instead wrapped herself in the robes she had set out for the morning. Out of habit, she also donned her mask; she often found that she felt naked without it.

She couldn't have slept more than a few hours, but she felt wide awake now, and feared that if she tried to sleep again right away, she may fall back into the same frightening dream. Wandering over to her study, she ended up sitting at her desk, contemplating the books she had found earlier. Surely, they would make for a fitting distraction. Perhaps she could tire herself enough to sleep again if she spent some time studying them. She examined the cover of each one, trying to decide where to start. Two of them seemed to be in a language she could not read, based on their titles. Those should probably go to the scholars for translation. She moved on to the other three, but only one seemed to hold her attention. She found her gaze lingering on the black bound book, the one that had seemingly caused a tingling sensation when she had touched it before.

She reached over and took the book in her hands, holding it before her face. Its cover was blank, offering no clues as to its contents, but once again she felt... something... while she held it. Curiosity warred with apprehension, and curiosity won out, as Dominica carefully opened the tome.

Before she had to time to examine what was written upon its pages, she yelped in surprise as a long tentacle suddenly manifested before her. Quick as thought, it had wrapped itself firmly around her body and was now seemingly dragging her _into_ the book.

Dominica's shriek of terror was suddenly cut short as she was unceremoniously dumped headlong onto hard stone. Cautiously raising her head to take in her surroundings, she gasped in shock; the place where she now found herself had an eerie resemblance to her earlier dream. Was it possible that she was still asleep? She must be... that was the only rational explanation.

Carefully rising from the stone ground, she stood looking around her. Her eyes rose to behold the roiling green sky, and all around her were strange structures made of books. If she was in a dream, how could she wake herself from it? It felt so _real_...

Something in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she swiftly turned towards the movement, her heart pounding. What she beheld there drew a strangled cry of fear from her throat; a horrifying creature was slowly floating in her direction, its face and body flanked by tentacles, with two pairs of thin arms reaching out towards her. Its eyes glowed red as it watched her, and it seemed to have a ghastly vertical mouth where its abdomen should be.

Dominica wanted to run, or else raise her hands with a defensive spell, but she stood frozen in fear as the monstrous apparition approached. Her brain screamed in panic for her to _move_ , but she was helpless to heed its wishes.

Suddenly, the creature halted its approach as she heard a masculine voice loudly call out _WHO ARE YOU?_ , an undeniable note of command in its tone.

Frightened, Dominica quickly turned in the direction the voice had come from to see a man standing before her. He wore elaborate pauldrons and gauntlets over his rich robes, and his face was hidden by a tentacled mask, not unlike her own. He stood tall and confident, as if this strange place were not out of the ordinary in the slightest. Could it be... ? The pieces were falling into place in Dominica's mind, and she suddenly knew there was only one person who this man could be.

“My Lord Miraak!” she called out breathlessly as she dropped to her knees, bowing forward so that the forehead of her mask nearly touched the cold ground.

“And you are?” came the amused reply.

“A-arch Priestess Dominica Maecilius, at your command, my Lord,” she fervently answered.

She heard a low, pleased chuckle in answer. “Very well,” the voice told her, “You may rise.”

Hesitating, she slowly drew herself up from the ground to stand on shaking legs. Unable to help herself, she nervously glanced back in the direction of the floating creature that had been approaching her. It remained in the same spot, unmoving as it seemed to examine her.

“Do not fear the Seekers,” Lord Miraak assured her. “They simply do my bidding, and will not harm you unless I wish it to be so.”

There seemed to be a hint of threat implicit in his reply, and Dominica reminded herself to be careful. Lord Miraak was powerful, unimaginably so, and it was in her best interest to make sure he understood that she was his willing servant in all things.

“My Lord,” she began, turning towards him again, her gaze lowered; she was not worthy of meeting his eyes. “I am most humbled to have the honor of being in your divine presence. I have served the Order of Miraak for many years now and have worked tirelessly to ensure your eventual return to our world, where you rightfully belong.”

He chuckled again. “That is good to hear,” he remarked. “Tell me, Arch Priestess, do you know where you are?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I feared this was all a dream... I do now hope that I will not wake to find that it was so.”

“A dream?” Lord Miraak mused. “Yes, I suppose it may seem that way if one finds themselves here unexpectedly, but no, you are not dreaming. We stand in Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora's realm, where I have been trapped now for millennia.”

He took a few steps towards her before continuing. “You say that you are working to allow me to return to the world... Tell me of your efforts, Arch Priestess.”

Dominica kept her eyes on the ground. Her pulse quickened; this was her chance to express her devotion to her Lord, to allow him to know the full extent of her dedication to his cause. How had she come to be so fortunate?

“Yes, my Lord,” she answered. “Ten years ago, as a young woman, I came to Solstheim. I had spent my youth researching all that I could find about your Lordship, and my studies led me to locating others who also worshiped you. With years of hard work,” she said, allowing a bit of pride to shine through in her voice, “I helped form the Order of Miraak. That was how I came to be Arch Priestess, the highest position within the Order.”

“Impressive,” her Lord praised, sending a thrill of pleasure fluttering up her spine. “And how exactly are you and this Order working toward my goals?”

“Our chief concern is with the rebuilding of your Lordship's temple on Solstheim. To my understanding, the temple is of utmost importance in assuring your return. We have undertaken an excavation of the existing chambers below ground, and once this is complete, an exterior structure will be constructed to further celebrate your Lordship's glory.”

“Excellent,” Lord Miraak mused. “How soon can this be accomplished?” he asked.

Dominica shook her head. “I'm afraid it will take many years yet, my Lord. Our progress is steady, but slow. Our numbers do not allow us to work any faster than we already are,” she regretfully informed him.

Lord Miraak was silent for a moment. “Have you any ideas for how things might be sped along, Arch Priestess? You seem quite resourceful.”

Again, she felt a thrill at his praising of her, pleased that she could answer this question optimistically.

“Yes, my Lord, I have been working on a possible solution. We could increase the number of people working on the temple if some of the other residents of Solstheim could be recruited to the task,” she explained. “However, as your Lordship will understand, the Order must operate in secret as much as we are able. And so, I have contemplated using magic to compel the townsfolk of Raven Rock and the Skaal village to aid in the temple's construction. If this can be done in a way where they will not retain memories of their efforts, then the Order will be safe from discovery.”

“I see,” he reflected thoughtfully. “And is such magic within your capabilities, Arch Priestess?”

Dominica hesitated, regretting the need to show weakness in front of her Lord after having successfully earned his approval.

“It... it may not be, my Lord,” she admitted, discouraged. “My skill, as well as that of my colleagues, might well be insufficient for the task.”

“Hmm...” Lord Miraak mused, “I may have something that could aid you in your efforts.”

Forgetting herself, Dominica looked up to meet his eyes. Instead of punishing her for her failures, he would lend her his aid? She, a mere mortal, receiving help from the great Lord Miraak? Of course, by helping her, he would be helping himself as well, she supposed. Still, the prospect made giddiness flutter in her stomach.

He turned and she saw another Seeker float towards him from behind a pile of books. It carried a tome in one of its claw-like hands. Lord Miraak gestured towards Dominica, and the creature approached her. She stiffly waited, prepared to set off at a run at the slightest provocation. Despite her Lord's reassurances, she could not help but be unnerved by the strange creatures.

The Seeker held out the volume towards her, and she hesitatingly took it from its grasp. It then turned away and floated back to Lord Miraak's side. Letting out a relieved breath, Dominica examined the book in her hands.

“This volume contains information on using Draconic runes in spellcasting,” Lord Miraak explained. “The language of the dragons is the source of my power, and I would have my followers share in its usage to further my cause.”

Dominica flipped through the pages, in awe of the precious knowledge they contained. If the Order could master using the runes when crafting its spells, who knows how much more powerful and diverse they could become?

“This... this is a most generous gift, my Lord,” she gratefully replied. “It will be my honor to use this knowledge to aid the Order in its mission.”

Lord Miraak walked towards her once more, stopping a mere two steps away from her. She almost felt as if she should bow again, but settled for keeping her gaze respectfully lowered.

“I am pleased to have met you today, Arch Priestess,” he offered. “Though Apocrypha is the realm of knowledge and I am able to keep watch on your world through Hermaeus Mora's patronage, I had not yet been made aware of your efforts on my behalf. Now I shall know to keep an eye on Solstheim and oversee the development of your plans.”

Dominica bowed in acknowledgment, a pleased smile that she could not help hidden behind her mask.

“I am most grateful as well, and honored beyond measure, my Lord. Please know that I am at your service, always,” she finished fervently. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. As unnerving as it had been to unexpectedly find herself in Apocrypha, coming face to face with the Lord she had worshiped for so much of her life was a gift that she could never have imagined being worthy of receiving.

She waited for Lord Miraak to speak, to dismiss her and return her to her home, but he said nothing. Curious, she dared to look up and meet his eyes, only to find him continuing to watch her. Should she say something?

“My Lord... will you return me to Solstheim so that I may continue my work?” she asked hesitantly.

“In due time...” he drawled. “It has been... an eternity... since I last spoke to another human. I would see your face. Remove your mask, Arch Priestess,” he commanded.

Dominica couldn't help but feel a moment of panic. When was the last time someone had seen her face? She was so used to being masked that the thought of removing it made her inexplicably anxious. But this was Lord Miraak, and he had given her an order... she could not refuse him.

With shaking hands, she reached up and pulled the mask from her face. Lord Miraak stepped closer to her, and examined her features. She kept her gaze averted, but he reached up and lifted her chin with one hand, until she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“You are a beautiful woman, Dominica,” he said in a low voice. The sound of her name on his lips was indescribably strange... she would not have expected that level of familiarity from one who she held so highly above herself. Her heart began racing faster, and she searched his eyes for a hint of his thoughts, but they were barely visible through the slits of his mask. She was acutely aware of her bare face and felt as if she were standing naked before him. She blushed furiously at the thought.

Lord Miraak reached with his other hand to take her mask away. He then carelessly tossed it aside. The sound of it clattering against the ground seemed almost too loud in her ears. It felt as if he had just taken away her armor, and all of her strength and confidence with it.

Stepping closer to her still, he brought his hands up to undo the clasp of her robes, then swiftly pulled the garment away. Dominica gasped as the cold air hit her bare skin, remembering too late that she had removed her shift when waking from her nightmare and had worn nothing beneath her robes. Lord Miraak lifted a hand up to her hair, running it through her light brown tresses, and Dominica trembled beneath his touch.

“I will allow you the honor of laying with me before I send you home,” he stated. “This is not up for discussion. Do you understand me, Dominica?” he asked, though his tone made it clear that he would brook no disagreement.

Her throat as dry as a desert, it took three tries before she was able to respond. “Yes... my Lord...” she murmured. She felt a sort of strange, detached pride that her voice did not betray the sinking terror that she felt in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied rape/non-con.
> 
> I've always found it a bit odd that Miraak has supposedly been exiled in Apocrypha for thousands of years, and yet he doesn't set his plans into motion until the events of Skyrim. Why did he wait so long?
> 
> That's why I decided to take this approach and have his followers actually be responsible for bringing him back, rather than him having the power to influence things directly all along. And if he didn't have an organized following until Dominica took it into her hands to found the Order, then it makes more sense that all of this is happening now.
> 
> Another deviation from canon is that, in game, it's implied that the Black Book only takes your spirit into Apocrypha, leaving your body behind. In my version of things, it transports you there physically.
> 
> We'll be getting to know Dominica better and following her story more in the following chapters, and I hope that she will prove to be interesting to read about. She's the most fully fleshed-out original character I've written so far, and I do like her quite a bit and hope you will too <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for chapter in end notes.

Back in her rooms in the temple, Dominica lay in bed with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. Her thoughts were roiling much like the skies of Apocrypha. It had been hours since her return, and yet she could not quiet her mind enough to summon sleep. She felt as if she would never sleep again.

She had thought herself blessed to have the opportunity to meet with her Lord. She had been able to express her devotion directly to the one who she had worshiped above all else, who she had dedicated her life to serving... but he had not stopped at asking for loyalty and service. He had taken her body as well. He had called it an honor, but Dominica could not help but feel... violated.

Did she have any right to those feelings? Should she not serve her Lord in whatever way he saw fit, without question? Was she truly devoted to him if she did not?

A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered his touch, and she pulled the blankets up to her chin. Would she have felt differently if he had shown some tenderness towards her? He had simply taken her, there on the cold stone ground, with Seekers floating in a silent vigil around them. He had deprived her of her mask, yet kept his own during the deed. She found it hard to reconcile the idea of her divine Lord and master with the reality of this man, who she had heard grunting and groaning with his efforts as he had taken his pleasure from her.

She had never questioned her faith like this before. She was almost shocked at herself; was she even worthy of calling herself the Arch Priestess to the Order of Miraak if she harbored such doubts? Was she just being selfish? Perhaps this was a test, to see whether she was truly as devoted as she claimed to be.

On and on, Dominica's questions and doubts continued to plague her, swirling through her mind without answers ever presenting themselves. She felt utterly lost... she did not know how to go on with her duties until she had a better grasp of her feelings.

The dawn found her still awake and questioning, as a knock sounded at her door. “Arch Priestess?” the timid inquiry came when she did not answer, “Your breakfast is ready, Arch Priestess.”

Rising to stand just inside the door, Dominica called out to the waiting acolyte. “Thank you, but I am feeling unwell today. Please leave the tray and inform those who I was to meet with that I will reschedule our business to another time.”

“Of course, Arch Priestess,” came the response. She waited until she heard retreating footsteps before opening the door to retrieve her breakfast. The smell almost made her feel sick, and she did not think herself capable of eating at the moment, so she set the tray aside before returning to bed.

The brief encounter seemed to have brought her back to reality, somewhat. No matter her current doubts, the temple was her home. Her life. She had worked hard to get here, and there were many people depending on her. What else was there for her but service to Lord Miraak?

She pondered on this for some time, her breakfast forgotten, before her exhaustion finally got the better of her. She fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams returning her to Apocrypha, and to her shame.

* * *

Over the next few days, Dominica managed to convince herself that returning to her duties was the only choice she had. She would set her doubts aside for the time being, and endeavor to forget her troubles by immersing herself in her routine.

She did, however, decide to hide the black book in her chambers. She would not share its existence with the others; not yet. Given that she had brought back the volume that Lord Miraak had given her from Apocrypha, she decided to replace it with the other four books she had found in the strongbox, that way Brother Eiydas would be none the wiser that something was missing. She returned the books to him, asking him to pass on the volume on Draconic runes to the scholars once he had added it to his logs.

Eiydas was impressed with her findings, his excitement clear when she spoke of how the runes might be used to strengthen the Order's spellcasting. He marveled that such a useful tool had been here all along, just waiting to be discovered, and wondered what other treasures they might find as the excavation continued. He paused in his accolades to remark that she seemed quiet, and was she feeling quite alright? Dominica's stomach had turned at the memory of how the book had come to be in her possession, but she assured Eiydas that she was fine, then took her leave of him.

She attempted to lose herself in her duties after that, meeting with the scholars to lay out her plans for magically enslaving the residents of Solstheim with the help of the Draconic runes, and asked that they make this task their top priority. One of them inquired whether they should leave aside their genealogical research for the time being. Dominica had forgotten all about their search for a descendant of Lord Miraak, and confirmed that yes, that research could wait.

In the following weeks, thanks to the insight given to them by the book from Apocrypha, the scholars were able to devise a method of enchanting the All-Maker Stones on the island in order to entrance the populace to do their bidding. The Order's most talented mages took on the task of setting the enchantments in place, which would require Draconic runes to be carved around the Stones to boost the range of the spell. Dominica gave her approval for them to proceed, and a buzz of excitement was palpable throughout the temple as the brothers and sisters of the Order waited to see if the plan would work.

Dominica found herself preoccupied with something else entirely, however. Of late, she'd been having some.. troubling... physical symptoms. She was experiencing frequent, unexplained fatigue, as well as nausea and vomiting most days when she awoke. Though she suspected she knew the cause, she was almost too afraid to admit to herself what it could be. Eventually, she knew that she should not ignore the possibility, and set out to discover the truth of it for herself.

She could not share her suspicions with the Order, so she decided to seek out a physician in Raven Rock. As she left the vicinity of the temple, she removed her mask and robes to reveal civilian garments, and stuffed her clothing into the large satchel she was carrying. There was no need to fear anyone recognizing her, as she hadn't shown her face in the town since she had first come to Solstheim over a decade ago.

It was a long trek to Raven Rock, and her apprehension grew the nearer she came to the town. She wouldn't allow herself to think about what she would do if her suspicions were confirmed. She simply hoped that she was wrong... but, one way or another, she needed to know.

It was getting late in the day by the time she arrived, but she hoped she could find someone to help her despite the hour. She asked the first person she met about a physician, and she was directed to seek out an apothecary by the name of Milore Ienth. She followed the directions she had been given and soon found the woman's house. Upon entering, she was greeted by a Dunmer woman, presumably Ienth herself.

When asked what ailed her, Dominica responded, “I'm in need of a diagnosis.” Hesitating to give voice to her fears, she took a deep breath and finally admitted, “I suspect I may be with child.”

Milore smiled, apparently not catching on to the fact that this was not a happy prospect for her patient. She asked Dominica to describe her symptoms, then requested permission to feel her abdomen. Dominica consented, and her anxiety seemed to double as she felt the apothecary's hands begin to palpate her belly.

Once she had pulled her hands away, the Dunmer confirmed that yes, in her opinion, Dominica was expecting a baby. The apothecary asked whether she was in need of information in regards to navigating her pregnancy, and it was a moment before Dominica absorbed what was being said to her. She was still in shock: she had hoped against hope that somehow, she had been mistaken, that her symptoms were being caused by something else. But no... she was carrying Lord Miraak's child.

There was no doubt that he was the father; she had not lain with a man since before she had come to Solstheim. And this one, singular incident had resulted in a pregnancy.

Still in a daze, Dominica thanked the apothecary and dropped some coins into her hand as payment for her services. She then wandered across the square until she found the town's inn, the charmingly named Retching Netch, realizing that it was too late in the evening for her to start making her way back to the temple now. She had left word when she had taken her leave that she might not return until the morrow, so no one would be expecting her back tonight.

Once she had paid for a room, she went to lie down in her bed, finally allowing herself to consider the consequences of what she had learned. A child... Lord Miraak's child... what should she _do?_

She could not help but remember the fact that the Order was searching for a descendant of Lord Miraak's at this very moment. It was possible that there were none out there... none but the one who now grew within her belly. If she carried this child to term... she... she could...

It was almost too horrifying to consider. Could she truly say that her devotion to Lord Miraak was strong enough that she would carry and birth his child, only to sacrifice it to ensure its father's return? A chill ran down her spine at the prospect.

As Arch Priestess, she had seen many people suffer at the Order's hands; in most cases, she had been the one to command it. Men and women tortured for information, or deserters trying to flee the Order who needed to be punished. All that had been in service to Lord Miraak, and she had accepted it without flinching. But a _child_... not only that, but _her_ child? This was different.

Perhaps the best way to protect her child from this fate was to end the pregnancy now, before it was too late. There were potions for such things, she knew. She could go back to Milore Ienth tomorrow and ask for her help once again. Then she could return to the temple and no one in the Order would ever know that she had been pregnant. And the chance to bring back Lord Miraak sooner would be gone...

Was that what she wanted? Was she no longer motivated by the desire to see her Lord return to the world as soon as possible? Was she so selfish that she was no longer considering her life's mission in all this? The weight of Dominica's confusion was oppressive, and she felt as if she would suffocate beneath it.

Turning over in bed, she soon found herself weeping, unable to hold back the torrent of emotions that was threatening to overwhelm her if she did not give it an outlet. She wept for herself, for her unborn child, for her dwindling faith, until she had no tears left and sleep took her in its comforting embrace.

* * *

The next day, Dominica was no closer to a decision. Sleep had not brought clarity to her mind, but she needed to return to the temple today regardless. At least she could plan for several possibilities, and thus be prepared once she had decided what to do.

After breaking her fast at the inn, she made her way back to Milore Ienth's house. The Dunmer woman smiled at seeing her again when she entered.

“You've come back,” she greeted, “What can I do for you?”

Hesitating, Dominica made her request in hushed tones. “I... I was hoping you could provide me with a potion... one that would end the pregnancy...”

Milore's smile faded, but there was understanding in her eyes. “Yes, of course,” she confirmed gently, encouraging Dominica to sit down. “If that is the route you wish to take, I can help you with that.”

“I'm... I'm still not sure, honestly...” Dominica admitted softly as she seated herself at Milore's table. “But I must return home today, and if that is what I eventually decide to do... I want to be prepared.”

The apothecary bit her lip, seemingly unsure whether she should ask her next question. “What of the child's father?” she softly inquired. There was no accusation in her tone, only curiosity.

Dominica shook her head. “He doesn't know, and I won't be telling him,” she confirmed, her voice grim.

Milore reached over to cover Dominica's hand on the table with her own. “I understand,” the dark elf told her, sympathy in her voice. “It's not easy being a mother, especially one without a partner's support. Whatever decision you make, I'm certain it will be what's best for you. Trust your instincts,” she finished with an encouraging smile.

Dominica was momentarily taken aback by the woman's kindness. Milore was a near stranger, and yet she was offering support and understanding without a second thought. Dominica wasn't used to being treated this way. She had had a difficult, unhappy childhood, and what family she had once had were long dead. And though, in a sense, she had found family within the Order, she was the Arch Priestess; she commanded respect and loyalty... but that was not the same as friendship. She realized, perhaps for the first time in years, that she couldn't remember the last time she had had a friend.

Her heart warming at the thought, she asked the apothecary, “If I instead decide to keep the child... can I return and see you again, so that you can help me know what to expect?”

Milore squeezed her hand again, a smile on her face. “I'd be happy if you would,” she assured her. The Dunmer then tilted her head, curious again. “I don't believe you mentioned your name,” she remarked.

“Dominica,” the Arch Priestess answered, knowing somehow that her identity was safe with this woman.

“Well, Dominica,” the apothecary answered, “whatever you decide, I wish you well.”

“Thank you,” came Dominica's soft reply, as tears threatened to fill her eyes.

* * *

The journey back afforded Dominica with much time for thought. She had her potion carefully stashed away in her satchel, and before she got close to the temple she changed back into her robes and donned her mask. She had told no one her reason for leaving, trusting that none of her brothers and sisters would dare question the Arch Priestess on the nature of her business.

Once she was settled back into her rooms for the night, she reflected back on her choices. She could end this pregnancy, here and now; doing so would prevent her child from being used by the Order, but it would also preclude the rite that would bring Lord Miraak back to the world.

If she chose to carry the child to term, then it might serve as a painful reminder of what she had suffered at Lord Miraak's hands. She still did not know how to feel about their coupling; a part of her contemplated the idea of serving as a divine vessel to bring her Lord back from his exile to rule over them all... but that romantic notion was belied by the cold reality of what had happened. She had been forced, frightened, to submit herself; the experience had been traumatic.

If she bore this child, would she consider offering it up for sacrifice? Could she even stomach the thought? If she could not bear to do so, then what were her options as far as raising the child away from that danger? Did she even _want_ to be a mother?

Motherhood was something that she had scarce considered during her life. She had not sought out love, or family... she hadn't really known what they meant. She had been more than content in dedicating her life to Lord Miraak's service. For so long, that had been enough... but now... now, she suspected it might no longer be.

When she had been talking to Milore, she had experienced the tiniest spark of what friendship might be like. To have someone else in her life who cared about her, beyond what service she could offer. If she had this child... it would be an opportunity to know real love. She would care for the child, who would then care for her in return. The thought brought a warmth that suffused her chest, and she realized that, perhaps, she had always wanted more from her life; she just hadn't known what she was missing.

The question remained... if she chose motherhood, how could she protect her child from its father? Lord Miraak had admitted to being able to observe the happenings at the temple from his place in Apocrypha. If he came to learn that she was pregnant... would he deduce that the child was his? And how would she hide the identity of her child's father from the rest of the Order?

She went to sleep that night without having come to a decision, but she felt the weight of necessity pushing against her nerves. She needed to do something, and she needed to do it soon.

* * *

Over the next few days, as Dominica continued to ponder her options, a plan began to form in her mind. She had noticed a few acolytes lingering nearby and whispering as she passed; on more than one occasion, in fact. Curious as to what they were on about, she made some discreet inquiries, and soon learned from Sister Adeline, who oversaw the acolytes in their duties, that a rumor had seeded itself among the younger members of the Order. It seemed that some of them thought that the Arch Priestess had a lover in Raven Rock.

“Please pay them no mind, Arch Priestess,” Sister Adeline humbly begged of her. “I will see to it that they learn better than to spread baseless gossip and instead focus on their duties,” she assured her, the threat to her charges implicit in her tone.

Dominica absently thanked the woman and took her leave of her. She supposed that her leaving the temple for a day without explanation was the perfect breeding ground for speculation to occur. A slight smile formed on her face as she realized how she might use this turn of events to her advantage.

The more she had thought on it, the more Dominica was realizing that she wished to raise this child. She feared for its safety, but the wanting of this relationship was gnawing desperately at her heart. So, she had finally admitted to herself that she wished to be a mother – now what? How did she make it work, given the dangers at play?

The acolytes and their gossip had given her the answer. She would not attempt to deny this rumor; in fact, she would subtly encourage it to spread. If everyone in the temple thought that she had taken a lover, then when she revealed her pregnancy, no one would suspect the true identity of the child's father. And if she took more frequent trips to visit Milore for her professional advice, then it would only further encourage the idea that she was regularly leaving the temple in order to indulge in a dalliance.

She hoped that the ruse would be enough to convince Lord Miraak. If he was in fact watching them at times... she needed a way to protect her child from him. She couldn't allow anyone to make the connection between them.

As she continued to ponder how she might protect her child, she found herself visiting the scholars. She asked about the progress on the All-Maker Stones and whether the information about the Draconic runes had been helpful. The scholars confirmed that yes, the runes had been the key in making the spell work, and they were already seeing an influx of villagers coming to work on the temple at night, entranced and unaware of their actions. Impressed, Dominica asked if she might examine their notes about the project. As she thumbed through the pages, the seed of an idea that had been growing suddenly bloomed in her mind. Putting on her most authoritative Arch Priestess tone, Dominica stated that she was so satisfied with the results that she wished to borrow the notes and the source book for her own study. The scholars agreed, seemingly pleased at her appreciation of their efforts.

As soon as her day's work was done and Dominica was able to return to her chambers, she set out the notes on her desk and bent over them intently. Cross-referencing the runic manual, she looked for information about crafting magical artifacts, and sought out any discussions pertaining to protective spells. _This has to work_ , she told herself.

Over the following weeks, Dominica spent every moment in which she was not otherwise occupied with working out how to craft a protective artifact. She did take time away from the temple in order to return to Raven Rock. Milore was visibly pleased to see her upon her return, and her smile grew wide when Dominica told her that she was keeping her child. The two women sat together with a cup of tea so that Milore could teach Dominica all that she would need to know about her pregnancy.

With this visit, and subsequent ones, Dominica was noticing that the hushed whispers were increasing at the temple. Her mask hid her pleased smile at the realization. The gossip had apparently also spread beyond merely the acolytes; she had even heard Brother Eiydas give a disapproving scoff when he had thought she was out of earshot. The Dunmer was far too serious for his own good, but if even he believed the rumor, then all the better for her and her child.

After weeks of hard work, Dominica finally accomplished what she had set out to do. She sat at her desk, late one night, with what appeared to be a small, polished stone resting in her hand. Its surface was covered with the runes that gave the magic its power. This tiny, deceptively insignificant object was the key to protecting her child.

She had imbued the stone with as many protective spells as she could manage. Firstly, it would not allow the person who held it to be tracked by any magical means. Secondly, it would hide its owner from the sight of anyone in the realms of Oblivion, including Apocrypha. And finally, it would prevent the usage of spells which could determine a person's parentage. Dominica smiled with tears in her eyes as she examined the little stone. With this, she and her child would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for referenced rape/non-con, and references to abortion.
> 
> Milore seemed like the best person to seek out as a doctor among the canon residents of Raven Rock. She's listed under the Apothecary class, which is why I decided to refer to her that way instead of simply as an alchemist, since it implies more than just potion making. The town would need someone who can deliver babies, right?


	8. Chapter 8

_**4E 201** _

Milore Ienth invited Rune and Sapphire to sit at her table, as she bustled around the cookfire preparing a pot of tea.

Rune sat with a stunned look on his face, still in disbelief to have found someone who had known his mother. He felt a hand on his arm, and looked up to see Sapphire's concerned eyes.

“Hey,” she said, “are you okay?”

“I'm... I think I'm more than okay,” he answered wistfully.

“So, you think she's telling the truth, then?” Sapphire inquired in hushed tones.

Rune was taken aback by the question. “Why? You think she's lying?” He couldn't allow himself to fathom it.

Sapphire held up her hands in apology. “All I'm saying is that you should keep your wits about you until we learn more. Okay, Rune?”

He nodded his assent. Sapphire was right; he couldn't let himself get too carried away. Whatever Milore told him, he would get to the bottom of this.

The Dunmer in question finally came to join them, a pot of tea on a tray in her hands. She handed out cups, and served the tea herself. Once everyone had their teacup in hand, she looked at Rune with a small smile and shook her head.

“Where to begin...?” she mused, then answered her own question with, “At the beginning I suppose...”

Setting down her cup of tea, Milore took a deep breath, then spoke.

“I met your mother here in Raven Rock, about thirty-six years ago. She came to see me for a diagnosis – I'm an alchemist and apothecary, you see – because she suspected she was pregnant.”

The dark elf took a sip of her tea before continuing. “It turned out that she was; with you,” she told him with a smile. Her expression then darkened. “She was... concerned, however. I could tell that all was not well in her life, though she spoke little of it.” Milore cradled her tea in her hands, seeming to take comfort from the warmth of the cup as she continued. “When I asked about your father, all she said was that she had no intention of telling him of the pregnancy.”

“Did she say who he was?” Rune asked, pondering what he'd already learned and eager to know more.

Milore shook her head. “She didn't, nor did she ever speak of him again after that. I didn't feel it was my place to press her about it, so I didn't.”

Rune's disappointment must have shown, as Sapphire reached over to lay her hand over his. He was surprised at the gesture, given that she wasn't the touchy-feely type, but he supposed that after she had unexpectedly found her father, she would know how much he would wish to learn about his own.

“Go on,” Rune encouraged Milore. She may not have known who his father was, but she was telling him about his mother, and that was more than enough for him at the moment.

The Dunmer woman continued. “I saw her several more times during her pregnancy. She would come to me for advice and guidance, since you were her first child. Then one day, when she was about eight months along, she showed up again and ended up staying with us. She gave birth to you here, in this house.”

“Here?” Rune repeated, his eyebrows almost up to his hairline. He looked around the room, trying to imagine the scene.

“Yes,” Milore confirmed with a laugh. “You were a beautiful baby, and your mother was so proud of you. It was clear that you were the love of her life,” she concluded with a warm smile.

Rune felt an unexpected tear begin to trickle down his cheek. His mother had loved him...

Clearing his throat, Rune tried to pull himself together. This was no time for weeping; he still had so many questions.

“Then what?” he prompted, eager to hear more about his early days.

“Well, you and your mother stayed with us for a few weeks longer, and then... one day Dominica told us she was leaving. She was taking you home.”

“Where was home?” he asked, realizing Milore hadn't yet mentioned where he and his mother had lived.

"Your mother never said,” the woman answered with a shake of her head. “She was a secretive one, Dominica. But wherever her home was... I sensed that there was some sort of danger there. I don't know if it was your father, or something else... but there was an unease to your mother when she spoke of returning.”

For as much as Rune was learning about his past, Milore's story seemed to be presenting just as many new questions as it answered. But no matter; he would take what he could get.

“It was years before I saw her and you again,” Milore continued with a sigh. “And once more, it was unannounced and unexpected. She just showed up at our door with you one day, out of the blue. I was so happy to see you both, and you had grown so much...,” she paused to wipe a tear from her eye, “but again – it was clear that danger was following Dominica. That was why she had come back to Raven Rock.”

“What kind of danger?” Rune asked, concerned. It struck him as strange to feel worried about a person he couldn't remember over events that had happened decades ago, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to know that his mother was safe, somewhere. He hoped with all his heart that she was.

“Who knows?” the dark elf answered. “As I said, your mother was secretive. I'm not sure if she thought that telling us would put Garyn and me at risk as well... but she never said.

She did, however, tell me of her plans to leave Solstheim with you. The two of you were going to board a ship to Solitude, in Skyrim.”

“I was found near Solitude...” Rune reflected. He hadn't mentioned that. If there were any doubts about the veracity of Milore's account, that certainly suggested that she was being truthful.

“So you were,” she responded with a half-smile, which quickly faded from her face as her features turned grim. “Unfortunately... your mother didn't join you on that ship that day.”

“Why?” Rune asked. “What happened?” If she hadn't been in the shipwreck, did that mean she had survived?

“Before she could gather you up and bring you to the docks, Garyn arrived and told us of a disturbance he had witnessed. He said that some strange people wearing masks had shown up in town and were looking for a woman with a young child. A boy,” she finished sadly.

Rune shook his head. “Masks? What kind of masks? Who were they?”

Milore sighed. “I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea. Garyn said that the masks had sort of... horns, or tentacles, or something of the like... but I didn't see them myself.”

Rune let out a breath in disappointment. He couldn't fault the woman for her lack of knowledge, but he wished Milore could answer more of his questions. He would just need to keep digging, he supposed.

“What happened then?” he asked, his stomach fluttering with anxiety as he waited for her answer.

“When she heard about the masked people, Dominica became alarmed. She asked Garyn for details, and he told her that they were gathered at the docks, and weren't letting any ships leave.” Milore looked grim as she recounted the events, almost as if she was reliving them and dreading what would happen next.

“Then... it was almost as if a strange peace came over her,” Milore continued. “She became calm, and when she spoke to me, I could _feel_ the importance of her words. And I'll never forget them, because they were the last she ever spoke to me.”

Rune stomach sank. “What did she say?” he begged to know, his heart full of fear for his mother.

“She told me that she was going to distract the masked ones and lure them away from the docks. And that once the way was clear, I should bring you there and send you on that ship to Solitude. Alone.”

Tears began filling Rune's eyes as he imagined the scene. His heart clenched at hearing of his mother's bravery. Divines... what had she been running from?

“I was worried for her, of course, and worried for you as well,” Milore continued. “But she told me you would be safe. She spoke of the stone,” she said gesturing to it where it sat on the table between them, “and said that it would protect you. She urged me to be certain you had it on you when you boarded the ship. It was clear that it was of the utmost importance to her.”

Rune picked up the stone and examined it as if for the first time. Had it been protecting him all these years? If it was supposed to keep him safe, then why hadn't it stopped the shipwreck? Or maybe it was the reason he was the only one to have survived...

“That was the last time I saw her...” Milore concluded dejectedly. “I fulfilled her request, and saw you off on that ship. I had you show me the stone before you boarded, and I did my best to reassure you that everything would be fine, though I wasn't certain anything would be.

The ship set sail, and I prayed for your safety, yours and your mother's. But as the years went by, I lost hope that I would ever see either of you again. I don't know what became of your mother, and her secrets remain a mystery still, but I think of her often. I wonder what happened to her, and regret that her life with you could not be a happier one.”

As she finished her tale, Milore reached over and took Rune's hand in her own. He squeezed it in return, as tears stung his eyes.

“Thank you,” he told her earnestly, “for telling me what you know. I still have questions, but at least... at least now I know that my mother loved me.”

“With all her heart,” Milore confirmed with a sad smile.

Overcome with emotion, Rune stood and invited her into an embrace. Milore rose to wrap her arms around him tightly, and as they held one another, they both began to weep.

They stayed that way for several moments longer, and Milore raised her hand to wipe his tears away once they had separated. As Rune sat down once more, he noticed Sapphire attempting to covertly wipe at her eyes and he couldn't help but smile. Perhaps she was the sentimental type after all.

The door to the house soon opened as Garyn returned home. He seemed surprised that the visitors he had met earlier were still there, commenting that his wife's hospitality must be unmatched. When Milore explained to him who they really were, he rushed over to hug Rune tightly.

“Marcus, my boy! Is it really you?” the farmer asked in disbelief.

Rune laughed as he returned the embrace. “I suppose it is, though I go by Rune, now.”

“Whatever you choose to call yourself, I'm just glad to see you safe,” Garyn replied as he released him.

Milore insisted that Rune and Sapphire stay for dinner, and the two could not refuse. As the four of them sat together enjoying a meal made from the fruits of the farmer's labor, Garyn asked that they fill him in on what he had missed. Rune also took the time to catch the couple up on what he'd been up to the last thirty years. Though he had only just met them, he felt strangely anxious that they would disapprove of his being a thief. He need not have worried; Garyn remarked that all needs must do their best to survive, and that he and his wife held no judgment against him.

As they continued talking, evening soon became night, and Rune suggested that it was time for him and Sapphire to return to the inn. Milore would hear nothing of it; the two of them would sleep here, at the farmhouse, and that was that.

As Garyn went to organize the sleeping arrangements, Rune found himself leaning in to hug Milore once again. Though he had not yet learned who his father was, or what had become of his mother, he nonetheless felt as if he had found his family, at long last.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for chapter in end notes.

_**4E 171** _

“Marcus!” Dominica called after her son, “What have I told you about running in the temple?” She regarded him with her hands on her hips, letting her voice and stance show her displeasure, given that her mask hid her features.

The boy looked down guiltily for a moment, muttering _Sorry, Mother,_ before he tipped his head up again to give her a winning smile. “I won't do it again, I promise!” he assured her.

Dominica was glad that her mask hid her face in that moment, since she could not help but smirk at her son's impudence. He most certainly would do it again, given his track record, but Dominica could not bring herself to stay angry with him. Of all the people in this temple who answered to her authority, Marcus was the only one who could get away with disobeying her, and he unfortunately knew it all too well.

“You're supposed to be at your lessons,” she told him sternly, taking his hand to lead him to find his tutor. He accepted her grasp, swinging their joined hands between them as they walked. In a way, she regretted the need for Marcus' life to be so structured and regimented; the child was a true free spirit, and full of energy besides. She would have liked to give him the freedom he craved... but her son was not a normal child with a normal life. She needed to keep him close, and protected.

Besides, life in the Temple of Miraak was all he had ever known. She wondered if he was suffering from the lack of other children to play with, or whether he found it strange that everyone around him wore masks all the time. Dominica made a point of taking hers off at the end of each day, once she and Marcus had retired to their rooms for the evening. She would not hide her face from her son; she wanted him to know his mother.

These last few years since he had come into her life had been the happiest she had ever known. Despite the difficulties of balancing motherhood with her duties as Arch Priestess, and her near constant fear for her child's safety, she had never once regretted deciding to have him. He lit up her days with his smile, and she often found herself sitting by his bedside while he slept, her heart clenching with love for him as she watched him looking so at peace. He was the best thing to have ever happened to her.

Of course, it hadn't been easy, at first. She had had to deal with the fallout of announcing her pregnancy to the rest of the Order, for one. She had expected the shock of some, but not the outrage of others. A small group of her peers had considered her news as evidence that she was unfit to lead them, Brother Eiydas chief among them. He had argued that, as Arch Priestess, her devotion should be entirely for Lord Miraak, and that raising her bastard child would take her away from her duties to an unacceptable degree. Dominica had made it clear that she was more than capable of doing both, pointing out that she had been instrumental in the founding of the Order in the first place, and that anyone who doubted her place as their leader would do well to remember that. Eiydas had backed down, but remained sullen thereafter.

She hadn't wanted to leave things strained between them, so once she had been nearing the end of her pregnancy, she had approached Eiydas. Wanting to appease him, she had admitted that, as she neared the time of her child's arrival, it would in fact be difficult for her to continue performing her duties. She had ignored the smugness in his voice when he had agreed, reminding herself that this had been her idea, not his. She had suggested that it may be best if she took some time away from the temple, explaining that she would travel to Raven Rock to give birth and would return with her child once she was ready. In the interim, she would appoint Eiydas as acting-Arch Priest. She had told him that she trusted him to keep things running smoothly in her absence, and he had seemed genuinely touched at her regard for him.

And so, once she had feared not being able to make the journey at all if she waited any longer, Dominica had made the trek to Raven Rock, finding it exceedingly difficult in her heavily pregnant state. She'd gone to find Milore upon her arrival, and the apothecary and her husband Garyn had graciously invited her to stay with them. She had feared that she was imposing on them, at first, but Milore had insisted that it was no trouble, and that she was there to support Dominica no matter what, because that was what friends did. And so, Dominica spent the rest of her pregnancy in the couple's company, getting to know them, and gratefully accepting their care of her in her time of need.

The day of Marcus' birth had been the most difficult and rewarding time of Dominica's life. The labor had been long and painful, but at the end of it, she had found herself with the most perfect child she could have imagined; a sweet, precious boy whose mere existence had melted her troubles away. She had cried herself to sleep holding him that first night, helpless in the face of her overwhelming joy.

She'd spent the following weeks doing nothing but fall in love with her son, as Milore and Garyn saw to both their needs. She was so grateful to the Dunmer couple for all their help and support; she truly did not know how to repay them for their kindness.

Late one night, as she had sat rocking Marcus to sleep on her chest, she had heard the door to the house opening. Strange that anyone would be going out this late, she had thought, and had risen, still holding her son, to see Milore and Garyn slipping out. She had hurried after them, curious to see where they were going, but they had not responded when she had softly called out to them. She'd thought it odd, but had gone to bed not long after, assuming the couple would soon return.

The next morning, she had asked where they had gone off to so late at night. The two had looked at each other, confused, and replied that they hadn't gone anywhere after the end of the work day. Dominica had insisted that she'd seen them leaving, and Milore had suggested that perhaps she'd been asleep and had dreamed it. Dominica had not protested the suggestion, despite being certain that she had been awake.

It was only later that she had suspected the truth; that her friends were unknowingly being led to the nearby Earth Stone by the Order's spells. Dominica had felt a deep shame at the realization; that the two people who had supported her during her pregnancy and her son's birth were being forced to work towards Lord Miraak's return against their will and without their knowledge.

After that incident, Dominica had felt that she no longer had the right to stay in their home. If the Order's manipulation of them was all that she could offer in exchange for their hospitality, then she would stop taking advantage of their kindness and return to the temple.

Milore had been concerned when Dominica had told her that she was leaving, worried that Marcus was still too young to make such a journey. Dominica had assured her that they would be fine, thanks to the apothecary's thoughtful care of them over the last few weeks. Marcus was a strong boy, she had told her friend, and Dominica had learned well how to take care of him. Both women had shed tears at the parting, and Milore had made her promise to visit again soon. Dominica had assured her that she would, regretting the knowledge that that would not be the case. Milore and Garyn deserved better than a traitor's friendship.

The journey back to the temple had been difficult and lonely, but by the time she had arrived, Dominica had steeled herself to face the Order again. She had known she would need to be strong and show them that she was still the Arch Priestess that they had followed for years. Holding her head high, she had returned to her home.

That had been five years ago now, and things had eventually settled into a new sense of normalcy for her. She'd found many of her brothers and sisters to be supportive of her and her new son, and she'd managed to carve out a life for him here, though it was admittedly not all she would have wished for him.

Dominica was now continuing to perform her duties in running the temple, but she had admittedly delegated some minor tasks over the years to make more time for her son. She'd continued leaning on Brother Eiydas, allowing him to take charge of more important projects that she would normally have wanted to oversee herself. He seemed to appreciate her trust in him, and he hadn't let her down yet, so she was comfortable in allowing him to take on more responsibility, especially if it prevented his earlier resentment from resurfacing.

Though she and Marcus had found a measure of happiness together in their new life, there were times when Dominica admitted to herself that there was an undercurrent of regret to her thoughts. She often thought of Milore and Garyn, imagining them spending their nights at the Earth Stone, unknowingly building away at the structure around it. Deciding to magically enslave the people of Solstheim had been easy when she hadn't been close with any of them... but Milore and Garyn were important to her. She had stayed away from them since Marcus' birth, unable to face them knowing what she had done, what the Order was _continuing_ to do to them. Dominica was ashamed of herself for it.

And though she made sure that Marcus always carried his enchanted stone, she still worried about him and his future. She couldn't help herself; even if she had every eventuality planned for, something could still go wrong. It was the curse of a mother to constantly worry for her child, she supposed. Still... she felt that she should be doing more to protect him.

After she had left her son with his tutor seeing to his daily lessons, Dominica made a mental tally of what tasks she still needed to see to today. The newest acolytes had begun their training this morning under sister Adeline, so there was no need of her there... She'd already gotten a progress report on the excavation today, and the scholars had updated her on the state of their current research.  
  
Perhaps she should check in with those mages working with the Draconic runes to strengthen the temple's defenses? But no... she had left Brother Eiydas in charge of that project, and he wouldn't appreciate her hovering over his shoulder. He would inform her if and when there was anything she needed to know.

That left her with... nothing. Did she truly have nothing else to see to? She scoffed at the realization. She supposed she could return to her quarters and undertake some research of her own. Dominica did not like being unproductive, and there must be something she could work on while she wasn't needed elsewhere.

As she entered her chambers, she made herself comfortable, removing her mask and setting it down on her desk. It would be hours until Marcus was finished his lessons, and she wasn't expecting any visitors, so she may as well feel the air on her face for once. All these years she'd been so used to wearing her mask all day every day, but lately it was irking her more and more. She supposed it had begun when she had spent all those weeks staying with Milore and Garyn waiting for her son's birth; spending nearly two months without it had made donning the mask again something she resented. She reminded herself of the reasons the Order had begun wearing masks in the first place, reasons she had put forth herself, but now they seemed to ring hollow in a way they hadn't before.

After making herself a cup of tea, she sat at her desk, perusing the volumes she had stacked nearby on its surface. She read the spine of each one, searching for inspiration. What should she work on? She thumbed through the sheets of notes that were sitting within her reach, wondering if she should pick up a project she'd already started. Nothing jumped out at her, and she felt as if the words on the pages were simply being forgotten as soon as she read them. _Well_ , she thought, _so much for being productive_.

She leaned back in her chair, bringing her mug to her lips. She closed her eyes as she savored the rich flavor of the tea blend. There were precious few of these quiet moments in her life; her son was still young, and his never-ending energy kept her constantly on her toes. She smiled as she thought of him. He was such a blessing; how had she gotten so lucky as to deserve him?

She caught herself, examining that thought. Though she could never regret having Marcus in her life, it had not been luck that had brought him to her. No... her son was the product of rape.

She did not often allow herself to think about Marcus' conception. She could not afford to fall into the spiral of shame and bitterness that those thoughts inevitably led her to. But at this moment, with no other preoccupations taking up space in her mind, she could not help but let this one linger.

Things had seemed so clear, before that moment in Apocrypha. She had had direction in her life; a purpose to work towards, a calling to answer. All of her focus had been on her devotion to her Lord, and it had given her a reason to live.

But then... when she'd found herself face to face with the man who she had dedicated her life to serving, after she'd shown the depths of her loyalty to him and his cause... Miraak had violated her.

That thought struck her. When had she started thinking of him as simply 'Miraak'? When had the ever-present honorific she'd always offered him freely disappeared from her inner monologue?

She suddenly realized with stark clarity that her perception of him had long since changed. Though she had continued going through the motions of her role as Arch Priestess to the Order of Miraak, the lord she had once worshiped had gradually become something else to her. Now, she realized, she saw him for what he truly was.

Miraak was, quite simply, just a man. A shockingly arrogant one, at that. Dominica had freely given him all that she had to give, and still, he had demanded more than she had willingly offered. Because he had felt he _deserved_ it. He had taken her body for his own base enjoyment, and had then dismissed her as if she had been nothing more than a speck of dust to him. After _everything_ she had done in his name... that was the thanks he had given her.

Dominica's hands shook with rage, and she set down her tea before she could spill it. She let her anger suffuse her entire being, for the first time since everything that had occurred. She'd been so confused in the aftermath of her time in Apocrypha, but now she felt as if she was at last seeing things for what they were. She had been living a lie.

She remembered herself as a young woman; lost, without purpose, and angry at the world. She had been searching, in vain, for her place in things, for a way to give her life _meaning._ Her budding magical talent had been a start; when she had realized that she possessed the ability, she had sought out a teacher. But she'd had nothing to offer as a student; she didn't come from a prestigious family, she had no coin... all she'd had was ambition. When she had finally found a wizard who had deigned to teach her, she had spent more time scrubbing his floors and organizing his books than learning magic. Luckily, she was quite self-motivated, and had used her time in her master's library to learn on her own as well.

It had been then that she'd come across mention of a Dragon Priest named Miraak who had lived among the dragons millennia ago, and had subjugated them to his will. The mythic figure had seemed so powerful, so brave, and Dominica's young mind had been captivated. She'd searched relentlessly for whatever information she could find about him, devouring every last bit with excited abandon, and eventually traveling throughout Cyrodiil in search of more. She'd scoured libraries, hounded scholars, and even made her way to Skyrim so that she could see the land her hero had hailed from. She'd had next to nothing in possessions, trusting only her feet, her wit, and her magic to get her through the next day - not to mention a knack for cutting purses and picking locks without getting caught.

It was in Skyrim where she had at last made the discovery that would change the course of her life. There, she had learned that there were others who worshiped Miraak like she did, and that they were gathering on the island of Solstheim to attempt to bring him back to the world. Dominica had been besides herself with excitement, and had spent weeks carefully picking pockets as much as she safely could until she had enough coin to book passage on a ship. She had sailed to Solstheim with her heart filled with hope, and had arrived with the determination to make her dreams a reality.

And now, years later, that dream was rapidly crumbling before her eyes, revealing itself to be a nightmare. She'd given herself to this singular task completely, and for what? For Miraak to rule over them? What gave him that right?

There was a time when she'd felt that the people around her deserved to suffer. She'd been intrigued by the idea of a powerful ruler who could punish the wicked, and she had wanted to be a part of making that happen. She had felt that it was only right that she, who saw people so clearly for the evil wretches that they were, should stand at Miraak's side and partake in meting out punishment to those who deserved it. And there were so many who did.

She now saw the folly of those views. She had come to learn that there were good people in this world, people like Milore and Garyn, who should be free to live their lives as they saw fit. People who did not deserve to be enslaved by the Order of Miraak for its lord's selfish gains.

And she had a son to think of. An innocent child, born from assault, who knew nothing of the evil deeds of his father, and needed to be protected from him. A son who brought joy to his mother's heart. Marcus... Marcus was everything to her. And Miraak... Miraak was nothing. Not anymore.

Dominica stood and began to pace the length of her study. She'd been such a fool. How could it have taken her this long to realize the truth? But it wasn't too late to make things right.

She knew now that she couldn't stay here, at the temple. She might still be Arch Priestess of the Order of Miraak in name, but her heart rejected the title. And as long as she kept her son here, under his father's unknowing eye, he was in danger. She would take Marcus, and she would go... perhaps back to Cyrodiil. She didn't know for sure, but she knew they needed to leave Solstheim and never return. The island was the seat of Miraak's power, and it would be that much harder for him to reach them once they had left.

Her heart sank as she began pondering her exit from the Order. Her brethren would not take kindly to their Arch Priestess forsaking them; deserters were hunted down and executed, a rule that she herself had put in place. She needed to be careful... more careful than she'd ever been about anything before.

She sat again at her desk, willing herself to focus. She needed to start making her plans, but she would not risk putting anything down on paper; she would leave no evidence behind as to her intentions. Let the Order wonder where she was... she'd be back in Tamriel before they could suspect that anything was amiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of rape.


	10. Chapter 10

Marcus awoke to his mother shaking his shoulder, bidding him to wake up. He blinked his eyes open, then quickly shut them tightly against the light of the candle in her hand.

“Mama? What's wrong?” he mumbled, confused. She reached over to stroke his hair.  
  
“Nothing's wrong, my love,” she assured him. “The stars are so beautiful tonight. I thought we could go out and see them together.”

He opened his eyes again, and saw that his mother wore her mask. She never wore it when they were at home in their rooms, but he supposed that if she wanted to go outside, it would make sense for her to put it on.

The boy stifled a yawn, but agreed with a muttered _Okay_ , before he shuffled out of bed. Mother handed him his boots and his cloak, insisting that the night was too cold to go out half-dressed.

“Do you have your stone, Marcus?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he confirmed sleepily. His mother had told him to always keep the small stone in his pocket, and to be very careful to never, ever lose it. He didn't know why it was so important, but he didn't want to let her down, so he always took great care with it.

As they left their rooms, Mother took his hand, and told him that they should be very quiet, since everyone else in the temple was sleeping and it would be rude to be noisy and wake them. Marcus didn't much care about being rude most of the time, but he didn't want to get into trouble, so he listened to Mother.

He'd never walked through the temple this late at night before, and it was eerily silent. If his mother hadn't been there holding his hand, he might have even thought it was scary... but with her at his side, he knew he could be brave.

As they got near the entrance to the temple, Mother held him back as she peeked around a corner. He thought that was odd, and he wanted to ask her what she was doing, but he remembered her warning about being quiet. He could always wait and ask her once they were outside.

Finally, Mother pulled him by the hand as she hurried towards the entrance, and they slipped out into the night together.

It was dark outside, but he could hear the sound of hammers striking metal from somewhere above them. Mother had explained to him that the townsfolk from the island came by even at night to help build the temple. He had wondered why they continued working throughout the night, reasoning that it must be hard to see what they were doing in the dark, but his mother hadn't given him an answer when he had asked.

He took a moment to look up at the sky as they climbed the ramp up to the surface, noting that the stars did look very pretty. They were bright and clear, and he thought that maybe that was why the townspeople wanted to build at night, so that they would have a chance to enjoy looking at the stars while they worked.

Before he could share his observation with his mother, she was pulling him by the hand once more, down the stone steps and away from the temple, telling him that she knew the best place to look at the stars from. He thought that they had a pretty good view from right here, but maybe Mother had found a hill that they could lie on. He hoped that he wouldn't fall asleep again if they did that; it would be a shame if Mother had to carry him back to bed. He wasn't a baby anymore, and he should be capable of staying awake even this late at night, if he tried.

But Mother didn't lead him to a hill; instead, she stopped once they were inside of a copse of trees. Confused, he informed her that they wouldn't be able to see the stars at all from here, and that they should go back out into the open.

Mother knelt down in front of him and took off her mask. He met her eyes, and he knew from the way she looked at him that she was going to tell him something serious.

“The stars weren't the real reason I wanted us to come out here, my love,” she said, raising her hand to caress his cheek. “How would you like to go on an adventure?” she then asked him. She was smiling, but her eyes looked sad.

“An adventure?” he repeated, his eyes lighting up excitedly, “Like in the stories?” His tutor hadn't liked it when he has asked her to read him the storybooks he had found on the shelf of his classroom, telling him that there were more important things that he should spend his time learning about, but he had eventually worn her down with his insistent smiles. The tales in those books had filled his mind with such wonderful ideas, things that he had never thought were even possible, and he had thought of nothing else since. And now he was being offered the chance to have an adventure of his own. He was the luckiest boy in all of Solstheim.

“Yes! I want to go an adventure with you, Mother!” he told her enthusiastically, an eager grin splitting his face.

“Good boy,” she said in a low voice, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. Why was she crying? Having an adventure was nothing to be sad about.

She rose and led him over to a large tree, and he saw two burlap sacks leaning against its trunk. Mother opened the bigger one and placed her mask inside of it, then took off her robes and added those to the sack too. She was wearing other clothes underneath, and he thought that they were a good choice to wear for an adventure, instead of those heavy robes that flapped around and would get caught on tree branches. She handed the smaller bag to him, asking if he thought he could carry it for her for a little while. He proudly confirmed that he could, and hefted the sack over his small shoulder.

They walked together for a time, and Marcus asked his mother where they were going. _Raven Rock_ , she told him.

“Have you been there before, Mother?” he asked her, curious.

He could hear the smile in her voice when she answered. “I have, and so have you, Marcus. Raven Rock is where you were born.”

“Really?” he inquired. “I can't wait to get there, then! Is it far?”

Mother laughed, before she confirmed that yes, it was far. He asked if they were going to walk all the way there, and she said that they weren't, and that she had something else in mind.

He wondered what she meant by that, but soon she stopped him, stating that they had gone far enough.

“Far enough for what?” he wanted to know. This was all so confusing.

Mother turned to him, and he could just barely make out her smile by the light of the moon. “Watch this,” she said, then lifted her hands into the air. He saw her palms light up purple and knew that she was casting a spell. She murmured some words he could not understand, and he soon noted a faint light approaching in the distance. He could hear a sound, hard, like something hitting stone over and over, that was getting louder as the light came closer. He pressed himself against his mother, trying not to be frightened about this unknown being that was approaching them.

“It's alright,” Mother told him. “Don't be scared.”

“I'm n-not scared!” he protested, though his voice trembled and his heart was racing.

Soon, a huge creature stood before them. It looked like one of those animals that his tutor had shown him in a book (a horse, she had called it), but this one was different. Marcus could see its bones, and its mane and tail were made up of what looked like purple flames. It was scary, but also fascinating.

“Wow!” he exclaimed in wonder. “I didn't know you could do that!” he told his mother, his voice full of awe.

She chuckled. “That's because I only just learned how. Come on,” she encouraged, “we're going to ride this beast all the way to Raven Rock.”

Marcus let out an excited _Yeah!_ as his mother lifted him onto the horse's back. He was scared to touch its flaming mane, at first, but he soon noticed that it produced no heat. Mother got up behind him and wrapped one arm around his middle, her other hand gripping the horse's neck. She took a moment to make sure that their bags were secure behind her, then spoke a word, and the creature set off at a gallop.

The rapid ride through Solstheim was a thrill unlike anything Marcus had ever experienced in his short life. He couldn't see much of the scenery around him, since it was so dark, but the horse seemed to know exactly where it was going. His exhilaration was enough to keep him awake and alert despite the late hour, and by the time Mother told him that they were nearing Raven Rock, he was surprised to notice that the sun was starting to rise. Mother halted their steed short of their destination, the outline of a huge wall faintly visible in the distance. She helped Marcus disembark, and retrieved their bags. She pet the creature's skull, thanking it for bringing them here so fast, then dismissed it with a wave of her hand. The beast neighed and ran off, its luminescent tail slowly fading as it raced off into the night.

Marcus was sad to see it go, and asked his mother if they would ever see it again. She told him that if they ever needed to get somewhere fast again, she would make sure to summon the skeletal horse to take them there. Taking his hand as they began walking towards the town, she asked him if he wanted to give the beast a name.

Marcus excitedly agreed, then pondered for a moment. Finally, he settled on “Nightstar,” and his mother told him that it was a wonderful name. He beamed a proud smile at her, his chest puffing up at the compliment.

The sun continued its ascent as they walked, and had risen fully by the time they finally entered Raven Rock. Marcus looked all around him in awe; he had never been to a town before. His whole life had been spent at the temple, and this was so vastly different from what he was used to. They saw people leaving their houses to go about their daily business, and Marcus noticed that none of them were wearing masks. When he asked his mother why, she told him that wearing masks was something that people did at the temple, but not in other places. He didn't understand why it should be different, but before he had time to ask, Mother had knelt down in front of him.

“Marcus,” she said, “it's important that we don't talk about the temple while we're here, okay?” When he asked her why, she told him that it was all part of being on an adventure. Why should they spare a thought for their normal, dull routine back home when they were doing new things and seeing exciting places? Marcus could find no fault with her logic, so he agreed not to speak about their home while they were away from it.

He let his mother lead him by the hand as he looked all around him, taking in the details of this strange place. Finally, they stopped in front of a house no different from the others, and Mother knocked on the door. It opened after a moment, and a woman gasped at seeing them. “Dominica!” she breathed, before ushering them both inside.

The strange woman pulled his mother close in an embrace, saying that it had been so long since they'd last seen each other, and that she had been worried about her all of this time.

Marcus looked at the woman, noticing her dark skin color and pointed ears. She looked different from him and Mother, but he had often noticed some of the others at the temple, like Brother Eiydas, with skin the same color on their hands when they happened to take off their gloves. He reasoned that they might look the same as this woman under their masks too.

The stranger released his mother and turned towards him. “Is this Marcus?” she asked quietly, her eyes filled with tears. Mother confirmed that yes, it was him, and the woman knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes. “Hello, Marcus,” she said with a trembling smile. “My name's Milore, and I'm very happy to see you grown up so big and strong. You were born in this house, you see.”

“I was?” he repeated, looking around him at the place of his birth. He wished he could remember it.

“Yes,” Milore replied with a giggle. “You were such a beautiful baby, and I've missed you very much,” she informed him. Her brows drew together as she hesitantly asked him, “Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?”

Marcus looked to his mother, and saw her nod with a smile on her face, so he turned back to Milore and nodded shyly. The woman gently took him into her arms, and held him close. He could hear her crying as she held him, and wondered why, since she had said she was happy to see him.

After that, Milore insisted that they get settled in and offered them food. Marcus ate ravenously, not having realized before now how hungry he'd gotten, and it wasn't long before he found himself yawning and his eyes drooping closed. Mother took him by the hand and led him down the stairs to a bed that he could sleep in, and as she sat next to him caressing his head, he was asleep in moments.

* * *

“Alright, Dominica, what's going on?” Milore asked her once she had returned from putting Marcus down for his nap. The Dunmer's voice was full of concern, and Dominica almost regretted taking the time to stop here. Once again, she was involving Milore and her husband in her sordid affairs, possibly bringing danger to their doorstep by being here. But the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to her only friends had been unbearable. Surely, by the time the Order figured out that they were missing and started looking for them, she and Marcus would be long gone... wouldn't they? Still, she wouldn't linger here long. As soon as Marcus had had a bit of rest, she would wake him and they would go to the docks.

“I'm leaving Solstheim, Milore. Marcus and I both are,” she replied. Her friend didn't seem shocked to hear this revelation.

“You're running from something, aren't you?” the Dunmer asked knowingly.

Dominica only nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Part of her wanted to confess everything to the woman who had delivered her son into the world. Milore had been her steadfast friend through thick and thin, and she deserved to know the truth... but Dominica couldn't bring herself to admit the things she had kept from her all of these years. Besides the danger, she didn't want Milore to be disappointed in her when she learned that she had been Arch Priestess of the Order of Miraak, working towards bringing that tyrant back to rule over and enslave them. She didn't want to tell her friend that she and her husband were also helping the Order thanks to Dominica's plans. She knew she was being a coward, but she could not help it; she couldn't stand to lose the only friends she had.

“It's not safe for us here,” Dominica confirmed. “But I didn't want to leave before saying goodbye.”

Milore took her hand. “Then I'm glad you're here now,” she said with a squeeze. “Marcus has grown into quite the young boy, hasn't he?” she observed with a proud smile.

“He has,” the boy's mother agreed with a sigh. She met Milore's eyes, and stated, “He's everything to me.”

“As he should be,” the Dunmer concurred.

Both women turned their heads as they heard the door open to admit Garyn. He stopped in his tracks when he saw their visitor.

“Dominica!” he exclaimed, looking worried. “If you're here, then... Azura, no...”

“What is it, husband?” Milore asked him, confusion in her voice.

“I was just coming back from my deliveries to the Retching Netch,” he began, “There was a commotion of some sort nearby, so I asked Fethis what he knew. He said that there were some strangers in town going about frightening the residents.”

Dominica's heart sank. “Strangers? What did they look like?”

“They were robed and wore masks,” Garyn continued, sounding concerned.

Her pulse raced as she urgently rose and stepped towards the farmer. “Garyn, you must tell me all you know. Please!” she begged.

The Dunmer nodded, then continued his account. “I followed the shouts, to see these strangers for myself. They were gathered at the docks, and... and they were making threats to anyone who didn't help them find who they were looking for. An Imperial woman, accompanied by a young boy...”

Dominica was in a panic. _How_ had the Order known? How had they gotten here so quickly? She'd been so careful making her plans, but now they were crumbling before her eyes.

 _Calm down_ , she told herself. _Think_. “You said they were at the docks?” she asked Garyn, her tone imparting the gravity of the question.

“Yes,” he replied with a nod, then went on in an agitated tone. “They were blocking access to the ships, insisting that no one was to leave the island until they had what they wanted.”

Dominica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Things may not be going as she had planned, but there was still a chance she could save Marcus. He was all that mattered, and she would sacrifice _anything_ to see him safe.

She turned to Milore, taking both the woman's shoulders in her hands. “I must ask you for your help one last time, my friend. I need you to see Marcus safely to the docks for me.”

“But... how will we get past those... whoever those people are?” Milore asked worriedly.

“I'm going to give them what they want,” she said, her tone even and calm. “I'm going to lure them away, so that my son might make it to safety.”

“But... what will happen to you?” the dark elf asked in a small voice.

“That doesn't matter,” Dominica insisted, her gaze boring into Milore's eyes. “Marcus _must_ make it off this island. Promise me you'll help,” she pleaded.

“Of course, Dominica... anything,” Milore agreed with a resolute nod.

Squeezing her dear friend's shoulders one last time, Dominica turned to begin preparations. She rushed over to her sack of supplies and pulled out a heavy bag of coins. She explained that it would be more than enough to pay for Marcus' passage to Solitude.  
  
“Solitude, Milore. Make sure it's Solitude,” Dominica insisted fervently. “The captain will want to sail to Windhelm, since it's closer. But it's the first place they'll look. It has to be Solitude – Marcus will be safe there.” She'd meant to accompany him, and the Empire's seat in Skyrim seemed like the best place for the two of them to get lost among the crowds until they were able to continue on to Cyrodiil. She just hoped that a young boy alone would be taken care of there. She had to trust that he would be.

“After you wake him,” she continued, “make sure that he has a small stone covered in runes in his pocket. He'll know the one. Have him show it to you, to make sure. It's absolutely imperative that he carries it with him. It will protect him.”

Milore nodded in understanding, so Dominica turned to Garyn. “After I leave, keep watch on the docks and make sure that the way there is clear. Once it is, come get Milore and Marcus and make sure they don't get caught on their way.”

“I won't let anything happen to them,” he promised earnestly.

She turned back to Milore. “Marcus will be worried when he learns that I'm not going with him. Tell him whatever you need to in order to make him accept it and feel safe. You were kind to him – he'll trust you.”

Milore was wiping tears away from her eyes, but she agreed nonetheless. Wordlessly, Dominica turned and made her way down to where her son slept peacefully.

She leaned in to brush his hair from his forehead, trying to memorize his small, perfect face. The thought of never seeing him again felt like a dagger through her chest, but it was no longer about her. She was sending him to safety, away from his father's clutches. She had to tell herself that he would live, he would thrive, even if she wasn't there to see it. He would grow into a strong, handsome man one day, and the thought made her so very proud.

She almost regretted the final spell that she had added to his stone, several days ago now. Anticipating their departure, and how difficult it would be for Marcus to begin a new life away from all he had known, she had enchanted the stone with a memory spell that would cause her son to forget his time in Solstheim. It would take effect once he left the island's borders, gradually erasing his memories in a matter of days, and Dominica had thought she would be there to guide her son through the confusion of beginning anew. Now, not only would he forget Solstheim and the temple... he would also forget her.

Dominica wiped at her eyes, sniffling her tears away as she kissed her beloved son's forehead one last time. She turned, and went back up the stairs to retrieve her pack. Hefting the sack over her shoulder, she leaned in to embrace Milore and Garyn before their parting. The warmth of their affection gave her courage, and their promises to see to her son gave her peace.

Casting one final, longing look in Marcus' direction, Dominica stepped through the door, and out of her son's life.

* * *

She was of singular focus as she marched towards the docks. Her steady footsteps echoed the rhythm of her beating heart as she strode with what appeared to be supreme confidence. In actuality, it was determination. And spite.

As she reached her destination, she stood before her foes, her feet rooted in place. There were four of them, and because of the masks, she couldn't tell who they were. But it didn't matter. The people she had once thought of as family were now her enemies; the fact that they were standing against her proved that.

She saw one of them turn and notice her. She wasn't sure if they knew her for their Arch Priestess, but she would make sure that they did.

Dominica reached into her bag and pulled out her mask, brandishing it high in the air so that her adversaries would see it. Recognition dawning on them, they began their approach.

Dominica turned and ran. She let her legs take her through the streets of Raven Rock and out into the ash desert to the southeast of the town, past the Bulwark. Dropping her mask and her other belongings to the ground, she spared a moment to glance behind her and make sure her pursuers were following. A satisfied smile touched her lips as she counted all four behind her. _Let Garyn and Milore come through_ , she prayed to no god in particular. Perhaps to all of them.

She could hear shouting from behind her as she continued speeding away, and suddenly she saw a bolt of lightning flash not far to her right. So, this was the game they wanted to play, was it? Well, she was happy to oblige.

Turning towards her attackers, Dominica stood her ground as she shot lightning of her own from her right hand, along with flames from her left. Her volley left one of them seared to a crisp, but the others managed to dodge out of the way. They spread out to surround her, and she continued sending out her spells as fast as she could. She thought she might have hit another, but she couldn't spare the time to make sure; she was too busy holding off the remaining two.

She noticed that they weren't trying to hit her with their Destruction spells, and seemed to now be focusing on Illusion and Alteration magic instead. So, they wanted her alive, then. She leaped away to avoid being targeted, but if she wanted to get out of this, she needed to take all of her foes down.

She sent more flames back towards her enemies, desperately trying to pin them down; unfortunately, they were quick, and she was outnumbered. She noticed that there were still three of them after all, though one seemed to at least be injured.

Before she could shoot another blast of magic after her three attackers, she felt the tell-tale tingle of a Sleep spell surrounding her. _Dammit!_ , she thought as she began to succumb to its effects. She fell to her knees upon the ground, vaguely aware of her foes surrounding her. It was over.

_Marcus..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who have played through the Dawnguard DLC and been to the Soul Cairn might recognize my description of the skeletal horse as referring to Arvak. Though Nightstar isn't the same horse as Arvak, that is where I got the idea, since there are apparently no horses on Solstheim. So my reasoning is the Dominica learned a Conjuration spell that could summon an undead horse, knowing that she and Marcus would need to make haste, and that a five-year old would have trouble crossing the island on foot regardless.


	11. Chapter 11

_**4E 201** _

When Rune opened his eyes the next morning, it only took a moment for him to remember that he was at Milore and Garyn's farmhouse. He blinked. Did that mean that they hadn't been pulled out to the Earth Stone last night?

He sat up in bed, yawning. He didn't feel particularly well-rested, he supposed. He lifted his hands, examining them. He noted some faint scratches on his knuckles. Had those been there before? He couldn't remember.

He supposed it was possible that whatever power had affected them before could, in theory, have caused him to sleepwalk to the Stone and come back to bed without knowing it. There was no way to be sure. If he hadn't happened to wake up from the trance the first time, he might never have become aware of what was going on.

Though the question continued to niggle at the back of his mind, he reasoned that it was no use focusing on it for the time being. He took a moment to poke his head into the room where Sapphire had slept to see if she was awake. Her bed was empty. Could she be out at the Earth Stone right now?, he wondered worriedly.

Climbing the stairs to the main level, he soon saw her seated at the dining table having breakfast with Milore. He let out a small sigh of relief as he stepped over to join them.

“Good morning, Mar- I mean, Rune,” Milore offered with a warm smile as he took a seat. “How did you sleep?”

“Well enough,” he cautiously replied. Did she and Garyn know about what the Earth Stone was doing to the townspeople? Were they themselves affected by it? Rune was hesitant to bring it up; meeting the couple had given his mood such a pleasant turn, and he didn't wish to sour it with discussion of the strange mystery that he had stumbled upon.

Sapphire seemed to be in a good mood as well. She gave him a bright smile and offered to fetch some breakfast for him. Milore countered that she should do that instead, since Sapphire was also her guest, but his guild-mate insisted as she rose and went to the cookfire.

Milore smiled and watched her go. She then leaned in towards Rune conspiratorially and murmured, “Sapphire and I were just getting to know one another. She's a lovely girl,” she offered with a knowing smile, and continued with, “you've done quite well for yourself with her.”

Rune was dumbfounded, firstly with surprise that Sapphire had managed to give off such a positive first impression given her usual way with people, and secondly with a rush of heat to his face as he took in Milore's meaning.

“We're not... it's not like...,” he cleared his throat, “we just work together, that's all.” He convinced himself that the fluttering in his stomach was just hunger, as he pointedly made eye-contact with the surface of the table.

Milore's soft chuckle belied her words as she answered, “I see. My mistake.”

Sapphire soon returned and set a steaming bowl down in front of him. He didn't dare look at her as he muttered his thanks, then dug in, practically shoveling the food into his mouth in an effort to chase away his embarrassment.

Once they had all finished eating and cleared away their dishes, Sapphire laid out the map that Garyn had given them onto the table, and the three of them went over the location of the All-Maker Stones. Milore offered him a piece of charcoal, and Rune circled each one as he noted its placement on the map.

“So, we've been to the Earth Stone already,” he stated, his finger marking the spot. “If we follow the road out of town, the next closest one seems to be the Sun Stone.” He turned towards Sapphire and asked, “That's the one that Master Neloth mentioned, wasn't it?”

Milore was the one who answered, nodding. “Neloth's tower is near it, I believe. It should be fairly easy to find; just follow the cliffs, then turn north.” She traced her finger along the map to illustrate.

“Right,” Sapphire responded. “And from there...” she continued, pointing out another circled point north of the Sun Stone, “The Beast Stone is the closest. Then the Tree Stone after that.”

“The Water Stone will be the hardest to get to,” Rune observed, shifting his attention to the western part of the map. “With all those mountains to climb, I say we leave it to last. That way we might not need to go there if we learn what we need to from the other stones.”

“I agree,” Sapphire replied with a nod. “So, how about we head east, as you suggested,” her finger traced the map as she spoke, “to the Sun Stone first, then the Beast Stone, and the Tree Stone after that.” She pointed to another spot on the map. “From there, we can stop off at this Skaal Village?” she turned a questioning gaze towards Milore, who nodded and said she believed they should be able to spend the night there. Sapphire continued, “And then the Wind Stone is close by from there.”

“If I recall correctly,” Milore volunteered, “the Skaal worship the All-Maker, and the Stones are quite important in their religious beliefs. If it's information about the Stones you want, the Skaal may well be the people to ask.” She grimaced as a thought struck her. “Though it's said that theft is strictly forbidden in their culture, upon pain of death...”

“So, we'd best keep our hands to ourselves,” Rune finished with a smirk. “Got it.”

Rune looked back at the map and sighed. As if reading his thoughts, Milore hazarded a question. “What is it you hope to find, Rune?”

“I'm not exactly sure,” he admitted softly. “All I know is that the All-Maker Stones and the stone my mother gave me have one thing in common: the runes inscribed upon them.” He pulled his stone out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. “If I can find the connection between them, maybe I can learn more about who she was, and what she was running from. Perhaps she even lived in this Skaal Village,” he ventured. “Milore, are there any other settlements on the island, besides the Skaal Village and Raven Rock?”

The dark elf shook her head. “Not that I'm aware of,” she mused. “I did often wonder whether that was where Dominica lived, as it's the only other place I know of that's settled on the island. But then again, I haven't seen much of Solstheim myself,” she admitted. “I mostly only venture as far as I need to in order to harvest my ingredients. And even then, Garyn worries because of the dangers.”

Looking at his stone again, a thought struck Rune. “Milore, do you know whether the Skaal religion places much importance on dragons?”

“Dragons?” she repeated, perplexed. “Not that I know of, but I'm certainly no expert on the matter. Why do you ask?”

He clutched the stone in his hand, then slipped it back into his pocket. “Before coming here, I learned that the runes on my stone are of Draconic origin,” he explained.

Milore's eyes widened in surprise. “They are?” she mused. “I must admit, I can't fathom what that has to do with any of this.” She shook her head with a wry smile, then continued, “Though I suppose Dominica was such a mystery that nothing should come as a surprise when she's involved.”

Hearing the Dunmer speaking so casually about the woman who had been his mother still struck Rune as strange. How he wished he could have known her. The little bit he had learned was only making him more eager to put the rest of the pieces together. He would solve the mystery, one way or another. He wouldn't leave Solstheim before he had.

“Well,” he finally said, turning towards Sapphire, “shall we?”

* * *

It was nearly half an hour later before they actually set out. Milore had insisted that they pack some provisions and had busied herself putting out food and waterskins for them to add to their bags, as well as several health potions from her inventory 'just in case.' Rune had offered to pay for those, not wanting to deprive her of her well-earned profit, but she had scoffed at the notion, insisting that he was family and she wouldn't dream of charging him. Her words made a surge of warmth bloom in his heart, and before they left the farmhouse, he covertly slipped a small coin purse into a nearby drawer.

They took a moment to greet Garyn at his stall on the way out, then took the path towards the town's eastern exit through the Bulwark. Sapphire wore a hint of a smile as she strode besides him, and out of nowhere she commented an off-hand, “I like Milore.”

Rune couldn't help but smile. Sapphire seemed to finally be coming out of her shell.

“She's a kind soul,” he agreed. He eyed his companion, then added, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sapphire's expression changed to a slight frown. “She does?” she repeated, seemingly bemused. “Why?” she murmured.

“What do you mean, why?” Rune questioned with a laugh. “Is being liked such a foreign concept for you?”

Her frown only deepened, and she said nothing. He wondered what she was thinking, but thought better than to ask.

They soon exited the town and began walking through the ash desert, past a small farm along the cliffside, still silent. But it was a comfortable silence, one where both parties were simply lost in their own thoughts, and did not feel the need to fill the space between them with empty words.

They continued to walk, keeping an eye out for possible threats; Garyn had warned them to be wary of creatures he called ash-spawn, as well as the local wildlife. They did have to fight off several large insects at one point, but luckily managed to avoid getting injured during the tussle. They also spotted what must have been a netch along the coastline, but kept their distance.

Their journey continued like this until Rune spotted a strange looking structure in the distance. It was only a faint outline at his point, but its silhouette had a distinctively... mushroom-like appearance. As they approached, that impression was only confirmed. Many smaller mushrooms, though still gigantic by Skyrim's standards, surrounded the main structure, which, unless Rune was mistaken, appeared to be some sort of building.

“Could that be Tel Mythrin?” he ventured to Sapphire, who pulled out the map from her pack and unfolded it.

“That does seem to be the southernmost point of the island, so I suppose it must be,” she concluded after consulting the map.

“Huh...” was his answer. “I suppose when I hear the word 'citadel', that's not really the image that comes to mind.”

“Well, that Neloth fellow _was_ an odd one,” she recalled. “Living in a mushroom sounds about right when it comes to these eccentric wizards,” she reasoned. Turning with the map still in hand, she pointed north. “In any case, using Tel Mythrin as a point of reference, we should be able to head north after crossing this stream and find the Sun Stone from there.”

“By all means, then,” Rune said, gesturing ahead of him encouragingly.

They gingerly made their way down to the edge of the water and crossed at the stream's narrowest point. Continuing north brought them over hills and through more groves of oversized mushrooms, and it was not too long before they began hearing the tell-tale sound of hammers against metal and stone in the distance. They must be nearing the Sun Stone, Rune thought, if the activities they had witnessed at the Earth Stone were any indication.

As they neared it, the monument became visible in the distance. Sure enough, Rune could see several people gathered around it, apparently busy with their hammers and tools. He and Sapphire approached cautiously, in case not all were under the same trance that they themselves had experienced.

Peeking at the scene from behind a low rise, they observed the builders until they were fairly certain that all were entranced, then rose to get closer. As expected, no one paid them any mind once they had made themselves known. Most appeared to be bandits, by their gear, and all of them were chanting under their breath.

“What is it they're saying?” Sapphire asked curiously.

Rune came closer and listened. “Here do we toil...” he repeated, making out bits here and there, “What by day was stolen... Far from ourselves... He grows ever near to us...”

“He?” Sapphire responded. “Who could _he_ be?”

“I have no idea,” Rune admitted with a shake of his head. “Likely whoever's causing this trance, I would wager. Maybe a wizard, if he has magic like this?”

Turning his attention away from the spellbound workers, Rune knelt down by the edge of the Stone's landing and ran his hand along its surface.

“More runes,” he observed. “I wonder whether they're the same as the ones we saw at the Earth Stone...”

Thinking quickly, Rune dug through his pack and located the piece of charcoal he had brought in case they needed to update their map.

“Hand me the map, would you?” he asked Sapphire, who did as he requested without protest. Turning the parchment over, Rune began copying the pattern of the runes from the stone onto the back of the map. Giving his handiwork a quick inspection to make sure he had transcribed everything faithfully, he handed it back to Sapphire.

“Now when we get to the other All-Maker Stones, we can compare the runes and see whether they match,” he explained. “And if they do...”

“Then they probably have something to do with this trance,” she answered with a smirk of understanding. “Good thinking,” she praised with a nod.

Rune stood up again, pensive. “I'm not sure that there's anything else we can learn here,” he concluded. “On to the next one?” he suggested.

Sapphire agreed and, consulting their map once again, they continued north in the direction of the Beast Stone.

* * *

The road to the next All-Maker Stone led Rune and Sapphire through rocky, mountainous terrain and snowy tundra, and the day had worn on by the time they spotted their destination in the distance. They had to climb down some low, jagged cliffs in order to reach the monument. Here, all was as expected, with wooden scaffolding built up next to the stone, and busy workers chanting while they toiled. Again, they took no notice of the two interlopers who now approached.

Rune thanked Sapphire as she handed him the map again, and then bent down to compare the runes he had taken note of with the ones now before him. As he had suspected, they were identical.

“They're the same,” he informed Sapphire. “Someone carved Draconic runes into the base of each of the All-Maker Stones... and they could very well be the cause of the compulsion the people of this island find themselves under.”

“That's one question answered, but what does it even really tell us?” the ever-pragmatic Sapphire remarked. “We still don't know _who_ is responsible, or _why_ they're doing this at all. And how does it relate to your stone, when all is said and done?”

Pulling the object in question from his pocket, Rune pondered her words. “I suppose it suggests that my stone is enchanted?” he ventured. “Milore did say that my mother claimed it would protect me,” he recalled, “so that makes sense. But how did it come to be in her possession?”

“Could it have come from the same person who enchanted the All-Maker Stones? Someone who knew how to harness the power of those runes?” Sapphire offered.

“That could be...” he admitted. All of this uncertainty was beginning to frustrate him, and he cursed under his breath. “I wish I'd gotten more information out of Nayru about the runes. They must have some significance beyond being a relic of long-dead dragons. What's the connection? Why are they being used on this island, in this particular way?” He kicked at a nearby piece of rubble and watched it bounce away.

“Hey,” Sapphire offered in a placating tone, stepping up to him and laying her hand to his shoulder. “The answer must be here, somewhere. We'll find it. There are still three more of the All-Maker Stones that we haven't seen yet. One of them is bound to have another clue.”

He sighed heavily, and met her eyes. Her expression was more hopeful than he could remember seeing it before, and he took courage from it. If Sapphire could stay optimistic about this, then so could he.

“You're right,” Rune finally agreed, and she squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgment before slipping her hand away. He found himself missing the contact as she did, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it occurred to him.

He gazed up at the sky, noting the sun's rapid descent. ”Well, if we want to make it to the Skaal village before nightfall, we had better get the Tree Stone out of the way quickly.”

“Then let's go,” Sapphire encouraged with a small smile.

* * *

Following their map, it didn't take long for Rune and Sapphire to find the location of the Tree Stone, but what awaited them there was not what they had expected. The last three All-Maker Stones had been nearly identical; a tall obelisk surrounded by a shallow pool of water, with stone arches rising above. But the place where the Tree Stone should have been was much more than that; up on a rise stood a large, ornate structure with steep stairs leading up to it. There also appeared to be scaffolding dotting its perimeter; it would seem that construction was underway here as well.

The two of them approached cautiously, taking cover and observing before they came nearer. Rune could see several people milling about, and he wondered whether they were also victims of the trance they had observed at the other Stones. He kept watching until he saw them pick up hammers and begin to work, relieved that they were likely not a threat. Motioning Sapphire forward, he crept closer.

As they approached the steps, Sapphire laid her hand to his arm and pointed towards something to her right. Following her gesture, he quietly gasped. There, lying in the snow, was the unmistakable skeleton of a dragon. Rune's pulse quickened at the sight; perhaps the Tree Stone would be the place where he would finally put all of the pieces together.

The two sneaked their way up the stone stairs leading to the main structure until they had a clear view of what was going on. There was the Tree Stone, standing in the middle of a flat circular platform... but there was more to this place. It looked like some sort of ancient temple or shrine. As expected, those gathered around it were clearly building something. Were they rebuilding the temple itself, or was it just a coincidence that one of the All-Maker Stones was in this location? There was no way to find out without getting closer.

Taking a chance that they would continue to be ignored, they descended the stairs that led to the Tree Stone. It rose tall before them, and the trellised arches surrounding the monument allowed the sun to shrine through and illuminate it, where a seemingly magical emerald glow shone from its polished surface.

“There are more of the runes here as well,” Rune pointed out, gesturing towards the symbols that ringed the pillar. He bent to examine them more closely, and pulled out the map for comparison. After a few moments of studying, he rose again.

“Even though this place looks different from the first three, the runes are the same,” he remarked. “And given that there are entranced people here too, I think our theory still stands.”

“What do you think this place is?” Sapphire wondered aloud, turning to gaze at the tall stone arches that surrounded the center of the landing where they stood.

“I don't know,” he answered truthfully. “The map just indicated the Tree Stone; I wasn't expecting anything else to be here. But...” he began, “with the remains of a dragon here, I'm hoping it means we'll find something if we keep digging.”

He turned and walked around, searching, until he spotted a descending ramp that must have led to the temple's entrance. “Here,” he called back to Sapphire. “I think we can get inside if we follow this corridor.”

Stepping up to join him, Sapphire smiled. “Think there might be treasure in there?” she asked with a raised brow.

Rune chuckled. “If there is, feel free to gather up as much as you can carry. For my part, answers will do.”

Sapphire shrugged, and together, they began making their way down the ramp. They hadn't taken more than a dozen steps when they were suddenly met with the sight of two figures wearing masks heading towards them, who started when they spotted them and yelled out _Intruders!_

Rune was momentarily stunned, and before he had time to reach for his dagger, the two masked individuals were already in motion. He saw Sapphire lunge towards them with her weapon drawn, her reflexes clearly superior to his own, but it was too late; their foes already had their hands raised in a spellcasting gesture, and Rune soon felt himself losing consciousness, his limbs tingling as the spell took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, at the Temple of Miraak in present day, at last! Will Rune finally learn the truth of his parentage here? Will he and Sapphire make it out alive? We have one more flashback coming up next chapter, where we will learn Dominica's fate, and then we'll be back in the present timeline for the rest of the story. Which lingering questions are you left with? Rest assured, they will soon be answered!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for chapter in end notes.

_**4E 171** _

As Dominica gradually regained consciousness, she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She tried to move, only to realize that her hands were tied behind her back. She struggled against her bonds, but to no avail. She opened her eyes, blinking back against the light of a torch across from her. As she adjusted to the light, she recognized the place where she was being held. She was back in the temple... in the interrogation room.

“Ah, finally... you're awake,” a familiar voice declared smugly from somewhere to her right. Dominica didn't need to see the one who had spoken to know whom the voice belonged to.

“Eiydas...” she snarled as he walked into her field of view. She could just imagine the self-satisfied smirk he must be wearing behind his mask.

“That would be Arch Priest Eiydas, actually...” he pointed out. “Since you've chosen to forsake that mantle, it now falls onto my shoulders.”

“You knew what I was planning, didn't you?” Dominica spat. That was the only explanation. How else could the Order have mobilized so quickly to stop her from boarding that ship?

“Of course, I did,” he replied lightly. “For all your careful planning, you did not account for everything, Dominica,” he scolded mildly. “For one, you failed to consider the fact that I do not trust you, and haven't for years.”

The former Arch Priestess simply glared at him. He spoke of trust? What had she done to make him distrust her, when her trust in him had so clearly been misplaced?

“So, what?” she asked, “You envied my position and betrayed me because you desired it for yourself?”

He stiffened at her words. “Who are you to speak of betrayal?” he accused bitterly. “After you deserted the Order and attempted to flee with our Lord's only son?”

Shock hit Dominica like a mace to the gut. _How_ did he know the truth about Marcus' parentage?

“You thought to hide him from us... when he could be used to bring Lord Miraak back. Why, Dominica? How have you fallen so far from grace?” Eiydas' tone almost held a note of pity. Was he so blinded by his devotion that he could not understand a mother's love?

“If you think that I would for one moment consider sacrificing my own child, then you are truly a pitiful excuse of a person,” she replied acidly.

He ignored the insult, turning away from her. “No matter,” he continued, “I knew that you would show your true colors eventually. I only regret that it got this far before I could expose you for the traitor you are.”

“How long has this been going on, Eiydas?” she asked, exhausted, “How long have you been plotting against me?”

“If you mean how long have I suspected that you would turn against the Order, then the truth is it became apparent when you announced your pregnancy.”

Dominica lips twisted. Eiydas had been vocal about his disapproval then, and she had chosen to give him another chance. It seems that that had been a mistake.

“I wasn't sure of your motives, of course,” he continued, “but you were acting strangely, and it was evident that your devotion to our Lord was in question. And so, I decided to investigate and see whether my suspicions could be confirmed.”

“What do you mean, investigate?” she demanded testily. She hadn't left any evidence of her doubts, had she? There had been no proof that she was questioning her faith.

Eiydas wordlessly pulled a book from his capacious robe pocket. The volume was bound in inky black.

“Do you recognize this?” he casually inquired.

Dominica's heart raced at the sight of the black book. Dammit! Damn it all to Oblivion, how had he found out about that?

“I discovered this in your chambers...” he continued. “When you went to Raven Rock to give birth, and left me in charge, it was the perfect opportunity for me to... verify my misgivings.”

Dominica was livid. The black book had been hidden carefully; if Eiydas had found it, then he must have scoured her rooms with a fine-toothed comb.

“How did you know I wouldn't go looking for that, before you stole if from my possession?” she accused.

“So, you didn't even find the forgery I left in its place!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “You had direct access to our Lord, and not only did you keep this knowledge to yourself, you didn't even bother taking advantage of it!”

“I've been to Apocrypha, Eiydas,” she confirmed through clenched teeth.

“I'm aware,” he answered nonchalantly. “How else could Lord Miraak have blessed you with his divine seed?”

Outrage coursed through Dominica's veins and the edges of her vision turned dark with the heat of her fury. How _dare_ he speak so casually of the fact that she had been defiled and call it a _blessing?_

Eiydas shook his head in disappointment. “Our Lord's favor was wasted on you, Dominica. I've endeavored to atone for your mistakes.”

“What in Oblivion do you mean by that, you sneaking wretch?” she demanded in exasperation. She'd had just about enough of Eiydas' self-righteous prattle.

He scoffed a laugh, apparently refusing to rise to the bait of her invective. “I mean that I've been using the black book myself, of course. I've met with our great Lord in person, and we have had some very enlightening discussions about you.”

Dominica could almost feel Miraak's eyes and hands upon her flesh again at this revelation. The thought that she'd been the topic of conversation between her betrayer and the megalomaniac who had violated her was more than she could stand.

“I shared my doubts with Lord Miraak, hoping to gain his support in overthrowing you,” he continued. “To your credit, he was not immediately convinced, given the way you had worked on his behalf previously. But I was able to win him over, in time.”

Knowing that she had had Miraak's approval gave her none of the pride and satisfaction it once would have. She almost preferred to imagine his anger at being thwarted. She wanted him to know that she had forsaken him, by his own doing. Let him feel that resentment at her betrayal and choke on it.

“Still,” he mused, “our Lord did not wish to interfere overmuch in the Order's affairs, as long as his will was being done. He asked that I continue investigation my suspicions, and report back once I had sufficient proof.

And so, I watched you. I followed up on your doings as Arch Priestess, searching for a lack of fastidiousness in your duties. And, I admit... at first, I found no fault in you. But I knew that, eventually, your caution would slip and I could expose you.”

Listening to the way he spoke, Dominica was beginning to understand the underlying cause of Eiydas' betrayal. His suspicions of her may not have ultimately been brought on by her own actions. It seemed that, whatever his reasons, Eiydas would have disapproved of her regardless of what she did.

It was becoming obvious that the man was a zealot, and if he believed himself a better choice to lead the Order, then he would have done whatever he could to undermine her in her position. It just so happened that, ultimately, he had been right about her, and she had given him exactly what he had needed.

“Admit it, Eiydas,” she taunted him, “the only reason you thought me unfit was because I was having a child. Your suspicions weren't based on anything other than your own judgment of my personal choices.”

“As if that wasn't enough!” he shot back angrily. “It was clear that you thought your child to be more important than the Order! Your cared more for you son than for Lord Miraak himself!”

He managed to take hold of himself before he continued. “I would have confronted you earlier, if I'd had the support. Unfortunately, there are many in the Order who considered you beyond reproach. I could not move against you directly unless I could show them the truth of your inadequacy.”

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Dominica would have rolled her eyes. How pompous and delusional could the man get? She was almost relieved to hear that she had had allies within the Order even as she had planned to renounce it, though admittedly, it had made little difference in the end. She hadn't just betrayed those like Eiydas who had doubted her; she had betrayed those who had believed in her as well.

“And how have we come to be here, then?” she inquired impatiently. “Did you simply wait until I had taken Marcus and left to decide that it was time to move against me?”

“Ultimately, yes, I suppose it came to that,” he admitted slowly. “But I have been preparing for this moment. You see, everything began falling into place once it was revealed to me that Lord Miraak had fathered your son.”

“Damn you, Eiydas,” she cursed him, “how could you possibly have known that? When everyone believed I had taken a lover in Raven Rock? When I had made it so that no one could use magic to determine who Marcus' father was?”

“You forget the nature of Apocrypha, Dominica,” he responded in a patronizingly lecturing tone. “Lord Miraak finds himself in the realm of the Daedric Prince of knowledge. And though Hermaeus Mora is not known for volunteering the most helpful of information... a few useful tidbits can be wrested from him, from time to time.”

Dominica let out a heavy sigh. All of her plans had come to naught because of _Hermaeus Mora's_ interference? How could she have overlooked the possibility of this happening? She'd been a fool.

“The fact that you had been hiding a descendant of Lord Miraak under our very noses was the proof that I needed to stop you. It showed clearly that you valued the boy's life over our Lord's return. And once you had attempted to run away with him, there could be no doubt of your disloyalty,” he finished smugly.

He stepped closer to her, his mask looming in front of her face. “The question remains, however,” he drawled, “as to what you have done with the boy?”

She sneered at him. Eiydas may have had her, but he wouldn't have Marcus. She'd made sure of that.

“You'll never find him,” she stated with a triumphant smirk.

“All I need in order to do so is a sample of your blood,” he casually remarked. “We could never perform that particular spell to locate other potential descendants of Lord Miraak's... but now that we have the mother at our disposal...”

 _Let him try_ , she thought smugly. The spell would fail, thanks to Marcus' enchanted stone. Let Eiydas waste his time trying. Her son would only gain distance from this place in the meanwhile.

Her betrayer went over to a stone table covered in an interrogator's tools of the trade. He selected a long, sharp blade, along with a small glass vial. Pulling its stopper, he approached Dominica once again. He considered for several long moments, as if trying to decide what would be the most satisfying way for him to draw her blood. He finally settled on a long, slow gash along her bare upper arm. She clenched her teeth tightly, unwilling to give him the pleasure of seeing her in pain. Once the vial was filled, he corked it again and returned the knife to its place after wiping it off on a nearby rag.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Dominica,” he told her pleasantly. “We will speak again soon,” he assured her, before turning towards the door and taking his leave.

* * *

While she waited for Eiydas' eventual return, Dominica tested her bonds, trying to wriggle out of them. It was no use; the ropes held her tightly in place. If she could have freed her hands, she could have used her magic against her captors, but all she could have accomplished in her current position would be to blast her spells at herself. She would have tried Conjuration, but she knew the room was shielded against it; it had only taken one incident of having to deal with a Dremora let loose within the cells during her time as Arch Priestess for her to assure that nothing could be summoned from here. She was well and truly caught... but as long as her son was safe, it didn't matter.

She tried not to regret the life that Marcus would now lead. His safety was her chief concern, of course... but she could not help but be saddened at the need to have abandoned him. Her son would live, but he would be alone. He was so young... how would he survive without his mother by his side? She had to believe that someone would take pity on him and arrange for his care. Perhaps he would end up in an orphanage, or a kind family would take him in? He was such a charming child, surely he would be able to make it in the world by inspiring people to love him. No one had the power to resist that smile, she told herself.

She did not have to wait long for her captor to return. Dominica knew that Eiydas was coming when she heard irate footsteps approaching her cell, their speed and weight evidence of their owner's fury.

The door slammed open to reveal the masked Dunmer, who angrily hurled “What did you do?!” at her.

She put on a deliberately confused expression, and sweetly replied, “Why, my dear, Eiydas, I have no idea what you're referring to.” She could feel his ire at her answer, and she took great pleasure in disconcerting him so.

“You know damn well what I'm talking about,” he accused impatiently. “The spell should have worked. We have your blood. And yet, somehow, there is no trace of your son's existence. So, I ask you again – What. Did. You. Do?!”

Dominica allowed her lips to curve into an unkind smile. “You would do well not to underestimate my abilities, Eiydas. I've ensured my son's protection, as any mother would.”

Her captor turned rapidly and grabbed a glass bottle from a nearby shelf, hurling it at the wall in his frustration. It exploded into tiny shards on impact, and Eiydas stood gazing at the floor for several long moments, his breathing heavy. He eventually pulled himself together, and turned towards her once more.

“This isn't over, Dominica,” he warned in a low voice. “One way or another, you will tell us where he is.”

“I'd rather die,” she answered through gritted teeth.

His gaze lingered on her before he softly threatened, “It may well come to that.” He then spun on his heels and stormed out the door.

* * *

An anguished scream was ripped from Dominica's throat as she wished, desperately, for the pain to end. She'd long since stopped trying to grit her teeth through her suffering, realizing that it was of no use. She had known when she'd refused to cooperate that it would come to this eventually, but she hadn't fully understood how challenging it would be to maintain her silence in the face of such agony. Sweat poured from her brow to mix with the blood slowly pooling at her feet. Her blood. As the pain faded, she continued staring at the crimson spatters on the floor, almost euphoric at the respite.

“I'll ask you again,” came Eiydas' steady tone, still laced with a touch of frustration at her resistance, “Where is the boy?”

Dominica managed to scrape together the energy for a faint chuckle. In reality, it bubbled up from her as she realized how foolish she'd been to think she'd be able to withstand this torture – but let Eiydas believe that she was mocking him. The little she was managing to thwart him gave her courage, and she had to hold onto every scrap of it that she could.

Eiydas didn't like that. He cursed her, loudly, then encouraged the interrogator to give it his all. Agony blossomed throughout Dominica's body, seemingly all at once as the spell took hold, and she cried out in a hoarse shriek, tears streaming steadily from her eyes. It continued for longer than it had previously, and she found herself begging for it to stop. She was helpless to prevent herself from shouting the words, _“PLEASE! STOP IT, PLEASE!!”_

A moment longer, and her captor motioned for the interrogator to cease his efforts. Dominica continued to weep, panting as the fire in her nerves slowly ebbed away. Divines help her, she couldn't keep doing this.

Eiydas leaned down in front of her, his mask entering her field of vision. “Let's start with something easier,” he encouraged patiently, apparently having regained some of his composure. “Has your son left the island?”

Dominica let out a thin, high-pitched whine as her tears continued to fall in fat droplets down her face. She tried to remind herself how important it was for her to resist, that Marcus was depending on her to keep her silence... and yet, all she could think of was her agony, and how much she needed it to stop.

“It's a simple question, Dominica,” Eiydas reminded her, still in that infuriatingly patronizing tone. “Either yes, or no.”

She held her tongue. After a moment, Eiydas straightened, and she saw him motion towards the interrogator to proceed again. “ _Yes!_ ” she cried out desperately before the pain could begin anew, and she hated herself for her weakness. “Yes...” she repeated feebly as bitter tears streamed down her face.

Eiydas immediately turned to one of the guards standing by the door. “Send a party to Raven Rock right away,” he ordered hurriedly. “Unmasked this time,” he specified, “we need to do this without raising suspicion. Have them board the next ship to Windhelm with orders to locate the boy at all costs. Now!” he barked.

Dominica wept, heartbroken at her betrayal of her son. Her only consolation was that they were going to look for him in Windhelm. If all had gone according to plan, then he should be on his way to Solitude by now, on the other side of the continent from where the Order was going to search. Let her son remain safe, and let her pain now be ended.

But it seemed her reprieve would be short-lived. Eiydas turned back towards her, smugly saying, “Thank you, Dominica. That wasn't so difficult, was it?” amusement clear in his tone at the question. ”But there's more I'd like to know,” he continued, and her heart sank almost down to her feet. He leaned in again, and stated intently, “You're going to tell me exactly what you've done to prevent us from tracking your son. And you're going to tell me how to reverse it. Do you understand me?”

* * *

From somewhere deep within Dominica's being, determination surged forth. Not to resist; she knew she didn't have the strength to do so any longer. But to deny Eiydas what he wanted. Her hatred for him boiled in her veins, and she boldly lifted her gaze to meet his. How she wished that she could see his eyes, so that she might know if he guessed her intent.

This man wanted to harm her son. He wanted to sacrifice the one who embodied all joy in her life, for the sake of giving their world to the monster who had used her for his own selfish ends. Miraak could rot in Oblivion... and Eiydas could join him there.

Dominica continued to gaze at her captor, and she forced her mouth to curve into a satisfied smile. Eiydas thought he could continue to use pain to make her talk. Well, she was no longer willing to allow that. She would do the only thing she could to withhold the information he sought, to protect Marcus, and punish Eiydas at the same time. Accomplishing those goals were now all that she desired. Anything else was inconsequential. She would save her son's life... by sacrificing her own.

She stared haughtily at the one who dared put her son in danger, as she began channeling her magicka. Her hands glowed and pulsed with energy where they were bound behind her as she pulled and pulled, gathering all of her strength. Eiydas soon sensed that something was awry.

“... What are you doing? Dominica?” he inquired worriedly. The glow from her hands soon brightened enough for him to take note of it. “Dominica! Stop that at once!” he warned. She only pulled harder, channeling all of her rage and loathing for him into forming her spell. The air felt as if it was vibrating, and the red glow eerily bounced off the walls to illuminate her face. If she could have seen herself in that moment, she would have recognized a woman in triumph, a mother who was ensuring the protection of her only child, and one who was exulting in the well-earned defeat of her enemies.

Eiydas was beginning to panic as he suspected what was about to happen. As if in slow motion, she saw him turn and begin running towards the door. It was too late for that now, she thought. She was ready.

The twitching mass of magicka which pooled and pulsed between her shaking hands had reached its point of culmination. With one final, fleeting thought spared for her beloved son, Dominica released her spell.

The torrent of flames that burst forth from her in that moment was all-consuming; a powerful blast of heat and destruction which seared flesh and melted stone. The sound it made reverberated throughout the temple, causing walls to shake and ceilings to cave in. The former Arch Priestess of the Temple of Miraak had taken her leave of the world, and the Order of Miraak had felt her departure.

She had not left quietly, but with righteous fury and vengeance towards those who had once given her their loyalty. She had no longer been the blindly devoted servant existing only for the sake of her cruel lord. She had become Dominica Maecilius, mother and friend, and since finding those she had loved and who had loved her in return, she had at last found the meaning that she had so desperately searched for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied torture, references to rape, and suicide/self-sacrifice.
> 
> I've added the Major Character Death archive warning, which I should have had from the beginning, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to me that an original character would still count as a major character though they aren't in canon. But, obviously, in this case Dominica is a major part of the story, and I apologize for not adding the warning before now.
> 
> I hope that I've managed to convey with Dominica's story, tragic though it was, that it was also triumphant. She did everything on her own terms, refusing to give in, to the very end. She was smart, she was determined, and though she was misguided initially, she saw the error of her ways and changed the direction that her life was heading. I think she would have made her son very proud <3
> 
> Also, how many of you suspected that Eiydas was up to no good?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings in end notes.
> 
> Also, you might notice that the number of total chapters changed from 15 to 16. Turns out I had mislabeled them in my document, so there will be one more than I thought! :)

**_4E 201_ **

As he woke from his magicka-induced slumber, Rune felt a nagging soreness in his wrists and shoulders. Once the fog had cleared from his mind, he realized that this was due to his being tied to a post with his hands bound behind his back. He groaned as he opened his eyes and looked to his right. There, he saw Sapphire similarly strung up, though she looked to still be unconscious. “ _Sapphire!_ ” he whispered hoarsely, trying to rouse her.

“So, you've awoken at last,” Rune then heard a man's voice say. He turned towards the sound, and saw a masked figure rise from behind a heavy stone table. The man came to stand before him, and Rune was able to finally examine an example of these infamous masks more closely. It was painted the color of bone, and spiky tentacles protruded from its edges, just as Milore had described; clearly, this man was affiliated with the same people who had been after him and his mother when he'd been a child. And now Rune was at their mercy.

“Who are you?” Rune demanded, his voice betraying his agitation.

“I was going to ask you the same thing myself,” the masked man remarked, chuckling. “What brings you and your companion to our temple?”

Rune's mind raced. If he could keep the man talking, he may well learn something that he could turn to his advantage.

“Just two thieves looking for some easy loot,” he answered, trying to mirror the other man's patient composure. “We thought this place was abandoned, and figured there might be some ancient treasure inside.”

“Is that so...” his captor drawled. “The map you were carrying seemed to suggest that you've been visiting the island's All-Maker Stones. Why is that?”

“Is that what they're called?” Rune replied with a wry chuckle. “I'll admit, they seemed important, so we figured we might find something valuable if we checked them out.”

The man turned and walked over to the stone table to retrieve something, then returned to stand in front of Rune. “And how then do you explain that we found this in your possession?”

The masked man held up Rune's stone in between his gloved fingers. It took all of his self-control not to react, but Rune managed it, keeping his expression blank. He shrugged, and offered, “Just some trinket I happened to find. It seemed interesting, so I held onto it.

“I see...” the man replied slowly. “Perhaps you're telling the truth,” he began skeptically, “but given that the Order of Miraak was given the gift of Draconic runecasting by our great Lord himself, and that as Arch Priest I would have been apprised of any artifacts crafted by our brethren, I find it hard to believe that a magical item such as this one would just happen to find itself in the possession of some common thief.”

Rune desperately tried to parse what he was hearing. “What in Oblivion are you going on about?” he exclaimed in mock exasperation. “Am I supposed to know what any of that means?” he added, hoping against hope that his captor would choose to reveal more.

The man chuckled. “If you are genuinely so ignorant of the situation, then allow me to enlighten you,” he offered, a note of self-importance in his tone. He went back over to the stone table and leaned himself against it as he began his explanation.

“My name is Eiydas, and I am Arch Priest of the Order of Miraak. Ages ago, the temple we stand in belonged to Lord Miraak, and as you surmised, it was in fact abandoned for much of the time between then and now.

But decades ago, the Order began its work. We have been restoring the temple to its former glory, that it may stand ready to welcome back its Lord once he is returned to our world. And though I stand at the head of the Order, driving forth these plans, it has not always been so.” Eiydas' tone dripped with scorn as he continued, “There was once another who we followed. One by the name of Dominica Maecilius.”

Rune felt his stomach plummet and his heart soar in the same moment. Finally, he was getting answers about his mother, but he didn't know whether they were answers he would like. She had been the head of this Order of Miraak? What did it all mean? He hadn't the slightest clue who this Miraak fellow was, and his followers were sounding more like a cult than anything. He needed to learn more.

Careful to remain expressionless despite his pounding heart, he shrugged casually and asked, “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

Eiydas was silent a moment, and when he continued, he sounded almost disappointed. “I had suspected it might... but no matter. We will come to the truth of it, one way or another.”

He rose from the table and began pacing the width of the room. “You see, it was Dominica who seemingly discovered the art of using Draconic runes as a means to fortify spellcasting, during her time as Arch Priestess. Once this method was introduced to the Order, we were able to use it on the All-Maker Stones to enslave the island's populace.”

“So, you're behind that?” Rune asked, the puzzle coming together in his mind. “Those people who are building without knowing it – that's your doing?”

“Dominica's doing, truthfully,” Eiydas conceded with a sigh. “One of her finer moments, even I must admit.”

Rune heart sank. He didn't know what to think. His mother was the one responsible for all of this? To what end?

“But why?” he couldn't help but ask.

“Why?” his captor repeated, ceasing his pacing, “To allow Lord Miraak to return to us once more, of course. That is all that the Order works towards. Once the temple is finally complete, then our Lord's reckoning will be at hand.”

Reckoning? Rune didn't like the sound of that. Whoever this Miraak was, he didn't seem like he was likely to be the benevolent type.

“But I digress,” Eiydas remarked with a wave of his hand. “We were speaking of Dominica.”

Eiydas resumed pacing the room back and forth as he spoke. “Though I did not know it at the time, the information about Draconic spellcasting had been given to Dominica directly from Lord Miraak himself. We, as his followers, were the only ones with this precious knowledge and the means to implement it.

That is why, when my brethren searched your possessions and found this curious stone, I surmised that you are in fact no mere thief searching to loot our temple, as you claim.”

The Arch Priest came to stand in front of Rune before he continued. “I suspect that this object was crafted by our former Arch Priestess herself,” he smugly declared.

“Okay...” Rune countered, attempting to inject as much confusion into his voice as he could, “But like I said, I just found the thing, so... why bother telling me any of this?”

“Ah, well,” Eiydas smirked, “call it a hunch. I believe I know the purpose of this stone, and why it is in your possession.”

Rune tried not to clench his jaw. Did this bastard really suspect the truth?

“For the last three decades I have been plagued by a question that I could never answer,” Eiydas said. “And with this stone, and your arrival, I believe the pieces are finally falling into place.”

He stepped even closer to Rune, peering at his face from behind his mask, as he casually asked, “Wouldn't you agree... Marcus?”

It took everything Rune had to keep himself from reacting. Feigning ignorance likely wouldn't do much good now, but he refused to give this man what he was after.

“Well, my name's Lucius, so I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” he offered, and forced a sly grin onto his face.

Eiydas' composure cracked at that. “Lies!” he yelled from behind his mask, “I know you're her son, whether you admit it or not!”

The Arch Priest stepped back, his head lowered as he seemed to pull himself together. “As I said... there has been a question haunting me for the last thirty years,” he continued, “By what means was Dominica keeping her son hidden?”

He turned back to the table and picked up the stone once more. “And this... this is my answer,” he revealed. “If my suspicions are correct, the enchantments crafted into this stone are what have prevented us from tracking you all of these years.”

Eiydas turned, facing Rune once more. “And now that you are without it, I can test my hypothesis and see the truth for myself. So, by all means, continue to deny who you are if it pleases you... but know that you cannot hide from me any longer.”

Rune chuckled, half as a means of dissembling, and half in despair. “Well... that's certainly an interesting theory,” he conceded, “but I don't get it. What's so important about this woman's son that you've had your breeches in a twist about it for so long?”

His captor did not rise to the bait of his glib question. “It is not your mother who is important in all this, Marcus, but your father.”

His father? Divines, he needed to know.

“And just who is that supposed to be, anyway?” he asked, dramatically rolling his eyes for added effect.

Eiydas stepped forward until he stood mere inches from Rune's face. Though his expression was hidden behind his mask, his cruel smile was audible as he uttered his answer.

“ _Lord Miraak,_ ” he said, his voice oozing with satisfaction.

With those words, Rune felt thirty years worth of uncertainties come crashing upon him all at once. Everything was starting to make sense; if his mother had been a priestess of Miraak and had borne her lord's child, then his followers would certainly place some sort of importance on that. But what had they intended to do with him?

His carefully maintained mask of ignorance must have finally slipped, as Eiydas now chuckled triumphantly. “So... you did not know, did you? I can see in your eyes that this news comes as a shock.”

 _No use denying it anymore_ , Rune admitted to himself. He was caught, and they knew who he was. All he could hope to accomplish now was to learn the rest of the story.

“Alright,” he conceded with a sigh, “it's true. I am who you say I am.” He could sense how pleased his captor was at this admission, despite being unable to see the man's face. Maybe appealing to his ego would yield more information, though Eiydas seemed quite forthcoming already. _What an arrogant jackass_ , Rune thought to himself.

“So, tell me,” he began, “if your Lord Miraak... my father... has a man of your considerable intellect as the head of his followers, then he must be powerful and shrewd.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Eiydas stated, a touch of reverence in his voice. “Though Lord Miraak was once one among a number of dragon priests, he showed himself to be exceptional when he cast off the yoke of his masters and turned against them.”

Eiydas turned his masked face slightly upwards, as if he was gazing towards his master, wherever he was. “Lord Miraak was the first Dragonborn, and his power was such that he could subjugate dragons. And with each that he defeated, his strength only grew.”

“You spoke of him returning to the world,” Rune asked, curious, “but wouldn't he have died thousands of years ago, if he lived in the time of the dragons?” If that had been true, then how could he have fathered a son only thirty-five years prior?

“That is what many think,” Eiydas confirmed, turning toward him, “but we, his followers, know the truth. He was not killed, for who could hope to defeat such a powerful being as he; no, he was simply banished. Exiled, to the realm of Hermaeus Mora. And once we are able to bring him back.... then, he will take his rightful place on Nirn... as its ruler.”

So his father was a power-hungry tyrant, eh? A man who could bend even dragons to his will, and had been exiled in order to stop his reign of terror? What could his mother have possibly seen in him?

“And you said that my mother was once your Arch Priestess...” Rune began, “how did she come to bear a child to the lord that she served?”

“That,” Eiydas spat, “is where Dominica's failures began.”

“What do you mean, her failure?” Rune demanded. He didn't like the way this man spoke of his mother. It was clear that Eiydas held no fondness for his predecessor, and it irked Rune, despite the fact that he had no memory of the woman.

“Our Lord Miraak chose to bestow his seed upon his Arch Priestess, a blessing that should have rightfully humbled and honored her.” His voice turned hard as he continued, “And yet, she chose to keep the fact a secret from the rest of the Order, and raised you as a bastard, claiming that your father was some nobody from Raven Rock.”

Eiydas shook his head in disbelief. “Even after all this time, I shudder to think of the blasphemy. She masqueraded as a devout follower of our Lord, and yet it was clear that she truly held no regard for him. That she would scorn his divine gift... she was far too willful, and did not seem to understand that her duty was complete submission to her Lord.”

 _Complete submission_...

“Are...” Rune began, his throat dry and his tongue feeling too thick in his mouth, “are you saying... that my father _raped_ my mother??”

Eiydas scoffed. “You make it sound so crass,” he chided. “The reality is that Dominica was given a unique opportunity to prove her faith and devotion to Lord Miraak. It was she who was at fault for not accepting it as such.”

Rune didn't want to believe what he was hearing, but it all made too much sense. The fact that his mother had tried to run away with him... she truly had been fleeing from his monster of a father. Perhaps she had been Miraak's devout servant, once... but to have suffered such a fate at his hands... Rune could only imagine the crisis of faith that must have followed.

“So...” Rune asked with a dejected shrug, “you have Miraak's son. Now what? Am I your messiah, or something? Will you worship me like you worship him?”

The Arch Priest's laughter was deep and booming as he threw his head back. “Of course not,” he countered, his voice still ringing with amusement, “You have a much more important function to serve.”

Eiydas stepped closer to him, then explained, “You see, now that we have you, it is no longer necessary for us to complete the reconstruction of the temple before bringing Lord Miraak back. You have given us another, more direct avenue.”

“And that is?” Rune demanded, becoming impatient at dealing with this horrid man and all that he stood for.

“Simply put, with the appropriate ritual, we can sacrifice you in order to bring about our Lord's return,” Eiydas revealed, almost offhandedly. “The son in exchange for the father. A life for a life.”

Rune sighed heavily and dropped his face forward. Was this truly how he would meet his end? Had uncovering the secrets of his past been worth cutting his life so short? And worse still, he had brought Sapphire into this mess with him. He spared a glance at her, where she still stood slumped against the post that held her up, fast asleep with a barely noticeable frown on her features. Would her choosing to accompany him cost her her life as well?

“Do you have any last requests, Marcus Maecilius?” Eiydas asked, finality clear in the question.

Rune looked up at the masked face before him. “There's one last thing I need to know,” he quietly stated. “What became of my mother?”

A moment of thick silence lingered between them before Eiydas simply replied, “Dead.”

Rune's heart shattered at having his fears confirmed. Though he had suspected as much, he had hoped beyond hope that he'd been wrong. His vision blurred as a film of tears filled his eyes.

“How...?” came the whispered request. Would knowing give him any solace? He had come this far; he might as well learn the whole truth of it. If he was going to die here, then he couldn't harbor any more questions.

“Ironically, she stood in much the same position as you do now,” Eiydas informed him. “We captured her after she had attempted to make her escape. And she proved to be most stubborn as we put her to the question,” his captor's tone hinted at the frustrated disapproval that this memory evoked.

“But, in the end, we finally managed to break her; enough that she revealed to us that you were no longer on Solstheim. But Dominica being Dominica...” he growled, “she just had to have the last word.”

The more Rune was learning about his mother, the more he was coming to admire her spirit. He wished he could have had just one conversation with her, to really have the opportunity to know her, but putting together what Milore had told him with what Eiydas was revealing, he was able to form a picture of a woman who, though she may have been misguided and made mistakes in her life, had ultimately made her own way in the world, and wouldn't let herself be pushed into submission by anyone. Not even the lord she had served.

Rune smirked at his captor's indignation. “So she thwarted you once more, at the end, did she?” he chuckled. “Good for you, Mother...” he murmured with a sad smile.

“Silence, you impudent wretch!” Eiydas shrieked as his temper flared. “You're just as infuriating as she was! I had her in my grasp, and she was going to reveal your location to us – she would have! But no,” he lamented, his hands shaking with rage, “Instead she used her magicka to blast herself into Oblivion! And she took down half the temple with her!”

Eiydas furiously kicked at a crate in the corner of the room, and the wood cracked and splintered from the blow. “She undid _years_ of effort with that spell! Killed and injured a third of our brethren, including our finest scholars, setting back their work in a way we still can't fully quantify!”

Rune found himself chuckling, his pride in his mother overwhelming his heart. “And yet somehow, _you_ survived. A pity that. I could have wished she'd have spared me from having to listen to your self-important blather,” he concluded with a smirk.

The Arch Priest turned back towards him, and stood perfectly still. “I almost didn't,” he admitted in a level voice. “For this, more than anything, my hatred of Dominica is warranted,” he declared as he approached Rune again.

Eiydas reached up and, in one swift motion, pulled off his mask. The flesh beneath was seared beyond recognition, and his left eye was missing, a charred, empty socket in its place. Only his right, pointed ear remained to suggest that he was an elf. Rune's stomach turned at the sight.

Turning away, his captor replaced his mask over the ruin of his face. “If I hadn't managed to get beneath that table, Dominica's revenge would have been complete. But my surviving was just one more failure among many for her.”

Looking again, Rune now noticed the scorch marks on the stone table that had protected Eiydas from his mother's wrath, and the slumped, glossy texture of the walls around him took on new meaning. She must have been an exceptionally powerful sorceress.

“Enough of this,” his captor finally decided. “I don't wish to delay our Lord's return a moment longer.”

Eiydas stepped over to the door, and after opening it, beckoned two other masked cultists into the room.

“I must prepare for the ritual,” he told them. “Once all is in readiness, I will send for you to bring him to me.”

“Yes, Arch Priest,” one of the two replied with a bow. “But, if I may ask, what of the woman?”

Eiydas turned his face towards Sapphire, detachedly examining her sleeping form for a moment. “Kill her,” he stated, then left the room.

“ _NO!_ ” Rune shouted as one of the cultists reached for a long blade that stood upon the stone table. He struggled against his bonds, praying that they would loosen enough for him to free himself, but it was no use. He glanced at Sapphire desperately, his guilt at having brought her to her end vaster than any ocean.

As he continued fighting against the ropes which held him in place and blinking away the tears that filled his eyes, he saw the armed cultist approach Sapphire's slumped figure. Then, in a flash of movement, she suddenly leaped forward, deftly disarming her foe and using his own blade against him. The first cultist dead in the blink of an eye, the second turned to run towards the door, but Sapphire threw the blade into the center of his back, the knife buried to its hilt as the man fell forward.

Sapphire approached the body, and pulled out the knife, slitting the cultist's throat for good measure. She then turned towards Rune with a smug smile on her face. “You're welcome,” she said with a wink.

Rune was stunned. “Were you awake that whole time?”

“Long enough to wriggle out of those ropes while the two of you were chatting. Seemed prudent not to give myself away,” she shrugged, making her way over to cut his bonds with her ill-gotten knife.

Rune shook his head in disbelief. By the Gods, she was an amazing woman.

“How much did you hear?” he asked hesitantly, thinking back to everything he and Eiydas had discussed.

Sapphire paused in her ministrations, then admitted _Enough_ , as she continued. Soon, Rune's hands were free, and he rubbed at his wrists where the flesh was chafed raw from his struggles.

“Come on,” she encouraged, “we need to get out of here.”

“We do, but first things first,” he cautioned, “we need to make sure we don't get caught.”

He went over to one of the dead cultists and began taking off the corpse's clothing. Sapphire followed suit with the other, catching on to what he had in mind.

Soon, the two of them wore robes and masks over their own clothing. Thankfully, they'd been able to easily wipe the blood from the oiled leather as well as the glossy paint of the masks. Sapphire's robes were a bit too big for her, but they would do in a pinch.

Stepping over to the table, Rune saw their belongings neatly piled together, and he handed Sapphire's weapons and bags of coin and treasures to her. He collected his own, then paused, frantically searching the table again.

“My stone...” he lamented, panicked, “Eiydas must have taken it with him. We have to get it back!”

“Rune,” Sapphire began sympathetically, “I know your mother gave it to you, but our lives are at risk here.”

“But don't you see?” he insisted, shaking his head. “Eiydas said that it was the reason they couldn't track me. If I leave without it, they'll just be able to find me again, and I'll be dead either way.”

Contemplating, he looked at Sapphire. “You go on ahead. I'll find Eiydas, kill the bastard, and take back my stone. We can meet back in Raven Rock.”

She shook her head. “No way. I'm staying. We're in this together, right?”

He wished he could see her eyes behind the mask she wore. His own were filling with tears as she so easily accepted risking her safety in order to help him.

“Right,” he finally agreed with a fervent nod.

* * *

Their disguises were apparently convincing, as they were able to travel through the temple's corridors without arousing suspicion from the other cultists they encountered. There was still the problem that they didn't know where they were going, and asking for directions would only give them away. They had chosen a direction at random after leaving the cell where they'd been kept, and they seemed to be heading steadily upwards, which suggested that they would eventually find the entrance if they continued. That was all well and good, but they also needed to find Eiydas. Where would the Arch Priest go to prepare for this ritual?

They continued along their chosen path long enough to confirm that it did, in fact, lead back to the temple's entrance, and for a moment Rune's sense of self-preservation had him wondering whether it might not be wiser just to leave now after all. But what he'd told Sapphire was still relevant – if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life running from the Order of Miraak, he needed to get that stone back. And kill that lunatic Eiydas, if he could manage it.

Feigning nonchalance, he and Sapphire turned back and casually made their way back deeper into the temple. Rune wracked his brain trying to think of a way of getting information from the other cultists without given themselves away. If they took too long to find Eiydas, would someone discover that they had escaped their imprisonment and sound the alarm? It was risky, and he wished that Sapphire had agreed to go on ahead. At least then, he would know that she was safe.

As they rounded a corner, Rune saw two masked individuals lounging on one side of the corridor. By their height, they were little more than children, likely no older than twelve or thirteen. Divines, how young did this cult recruit its members?

The two youths soon noticed their approach and stiffly stood at attention, whatever idle chatter they had been sharing in forgotten for the moment. If the junior members of the cult were this deferential towards their elders, then perhaps Rune could make use of them...

“Follow my lead...” he whispered to Sapphire, who gave him a slight nod in return. He turned back towards the young cultists.

“What are you two standing around here for?” he intoned, imbuing his voice with authority and a hint of displeasure. “Don't you have anything to occupy yourselves with?”

“Yes, Brother! Sorry, Brother!” the one on the left quickly answered, sounding panicked, before racing off. The other just stood there, apparently unsure what to do, watching as the other youth hurried off.

“Well, since you don't seem to have any duties at the moment, you can do something for me,” Rune told the remaining child.

“Uh... yes. Of course, Brother!” the acolyte replied with a stiff bow, in a squeaking treble that gave no clue as to the child's gender.

“I need you to bring something to the Arch Priest,” Rune stated, turning towards Sapphire and whispering _Give me that circlet, the really shiny one_ to her. She obliged, rummaging through the sack containing the remainder of Viola Giordano's valuables, and pulled out a golden circlet with sparkling rubies set into its crown.

He held it out towards the acolyte, and explained, “This was found in the possession of an enemy of the Order, a wizard who was killed trying to infiltrate the temple just now. We believe that it holds great magical power, and the Arch Priest will surely wish to examine it for himself.” He held out the circlet towards the youth. “I entrust it to you. Bring it to him straightaway, and if you fail in this duty, rest assured that the Arch Priest will hear of it.”

The acolyte's hands shook visibly as they reached out to take the circlet, seemingly almost afraid to touch it. The child finally grasped it reverently, an audible gulp evidence of their unease.

“Well?” Rune challenged impatiently, “what are you waiting for? Go to the Arch Priest, before I have you flogged for insolence!”

The youth straightened with a startled jump, then bowed again with an earnest “Yes Brother! Right away Brother!,” then turned hurriedly only to stop in mid-stride and proclaim “Good day to you Brother, Sister,” before rushing off down the corridor.

“Now's our chance,” Rune murmured to his companion, and the two of them turned to follow the acolyte from a distance.

The child was so focused on their task that they did not notice the fact that they were being tailed, and Rune and Sapphire soon saw them stop at a closed door. The two of them held back and watched from behind a corner as the acolyte knocked politely and was allowed entry. A few moment later, the youth exited the room again, now without the circlet, and went on their way once more, walking away with a relieved sigh now that their errand was complete.

Once they could no longer hear the child's footsteps and had made sure that no one else was approaching, Rune and Sapphire made their way over to the door.

“What's the plan?” she asked him, letting him take the lead.

“Keep your weapon ready, but we should try deception first,” he suggested. “How we proceed will depend on whether he's alone in there or not.”

They spent a minute longer deciding on their strategy until they were in agreement, then, with a nervous sigh, Rune knocked on the door.

“Come!” Eiydas' irritated voice called from inside.

The two apparent cultists stepped into the room, and quickly assessed the situation. The Arch Priest was in fact alone, which was to their benefit, and he appeared to be absorbed in his task. The ruby circlet seemed to have been carelessly tossed onto a side table, Eiydas surely recognizing it as the useless trinket that it was. He turned for a moment to glance back at who had interrupted him, and Rune bowed, trusting that Sapphire would follow his example.

“Arch Priest,” Rune intoned with feigned reverence, taking care to also disguise his voice, “we've just been informed that the prisoner is attempting to escape.”

 _“What?”_ Eiydas demanded harshly, turning to face them with his hands clenched into fists. “Has he left the temple?! We can't let him get away!”

“Of course, Arch Priest,” Rune continued, “the prisoner is being pursued as we speak and has thus far been prevented from fleeing the temple. But recapturing him is proving difficult, and your assistance is requested.”

“Azura's tits,” Eiydas muttered angrily as he strode towards the door, “must I do everything myself?!”

Rune bowed as the Arch Priest stalked past him, and smoothly drew his dagger as he rose. Swift and silent, he lunged towards Eiydas. Unfortunately, the Arch Priest seemed to have acute hearing and swift reflexes, as he turned in time to see the attack in progress. The Dunmer caught Rune's wrist and held the dagger away with a stronger grip than his appearance suggested, harshly demanding _What is the meaning of this?!_

Rune did not answer, only grunting as he attempted to force his weapon nearer to his foe's heart. Eiydas continued holding him off with his left hand, as his right drew back and began to glow with the telltale evidence of a spell about to be cast. Rune's heart sank at the sight; he had no protecting against magic.

His panic soon turned to confusion as the glow of magicka around the Arch Priest's fist suddenly winked out, accompanied by a sharp gasp from the man. Rune now noticed his adversary's blood beginning to pool and drip from around the point of Sapphire's knife protruding from his abdomen, where she had impaled it straight through his back.

Without hesitation, Rune caught Eiydas by the head with one hand, then brought his dagger around to slice along the man's throat in a swift, fluid motion.

The Arch Priest of the Order of Miraak fell to his knees, clutching at his throat as his lifeblood drained away. It was over in moments, and the body lay on the ground with a rapidly growing pool of crimson surrounding it.

“That... was for my mother,” Rune murmured as he wiped off then sheathed his dagger.

Sapphire knelt to the ground and began searching through the former Arch Priest's pouches and pockets, pulling the contents free until she found what she was looking for. Rising, she held out her hand to deposit Rune's stone into his palm.

“I believe this is yours,” she told him with a smile in her voice, closing her hand over his for a moment before letting go. “That was well done,” she praised him.

“I could say the same to you,” he echoed. “You really saved my skin.”

“I wasn't going to let you die after all that,” she answered with a shrug, taking a moment to walk across the room and retrieve the ruby circlet, which she tucked back into the sack it had previously occupied. “Now let's get the hell out of here.”

“Gladly,” he replied, relieved that she couldn't see him blushing behind his mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for reference to rape, and mildly graphic description of burned flesh.
> 
> We are very near the end now, my friends, and Rune has finally learned the truth of his past in full. And he managed to finish off the, as he aptly put it, arrogant jackass that was Eiydas. But, he and Sapphire still need to make their way out of the temple. Will their disguises be enough to allow them to leave unharmed after having assassinated the Arch Priest?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut ;)

It seemed that luck was no longer on Rune and Sapphire's side, as they emerged from the Arch Priest's chambers only to learn that someone had evidently discovered them missing from their cell and sounded the alarm. Cries of _The prisoners have escaped!_ sounded from not far away, and they could hear booted feet hurrying in the corridor ahead of them.

“We need to get to the entrance,” Sapphire needlessly reminded him, anxiety in her voice.

“I know,” he replied, trying to keep calm despite his racing heart. “If we meet anyone, just play along. We're looking for the prisoners too,” he encouraged her.

“Got it,” she answered with a resolute nod, and started jogging down the corridor, Rune following in her wake. They soon encountered another group of cultists, and Rune called out, “Which way did they go?,” making sure to inject worry into his tone.

“We don't know that yet,” the cultist who seemed to be in charge replied. “Spread out,” the leader ordered, “they could be anywhere by now. If anyone finds them, send someone back to inform me and we'll regroup at their location.”

“We'll take the entrance,” Sapphire volunteered, and Rune felt an odd fondness at hearing her convincing tone. She tended to be straightforward and blunt, leaving the deception to him, but he was proud to see her turning her hand to his way of doing things.

“Good idea,” the leader agreed, pointing out two other cultists to join them, and assigning directions to the rest. “Now, move!”

Rune let their two pseudo-companions take the lead, following in their wake and wondering how they could be rid of them. Luckily, none of the cultists seemed to have yet discovered that the prisoners they were searching for had disguised themselves as members of the Order. He and Sapphire had taken care to hide the bodies of their captors after having stripped them of their clothing. As long as those bodies weren't found, then the advantage remained theirs. They could still use the element of surprise, as they had when they'd killed Eiydas.

As the four of them rushed towards the temple's entrance, they soon heard shouting echoing down the corridor from the direction they had come.

"The Arch Priest has been murdered!" a frenzied cultist cried, rushing past them. "The prisoners have murdered Arch Priest Eiydas!"

Their companions stopped in their tracks and gasped in shock. Rune followed suit, cursing under his breath in anger, though his true ire was for the fact that the assassination had already been discovered. He hoped that they still had time.

With renewed enthusiasm, the four of them hurried down the corridors, finally arriving to the temple's entrance where two guards were already posted.

“What's happening?” one asked, “We heard shouting.”

“Those prisoners that were captured earlier broke out of their cell,” the cultist to Rune's left explained. “We've just heard that they've murdered the Arch Priest!”

“Lord Miraak curse them!” the guard growled in response. “Does anyone know where they went?”

“No,” their other companion replied. “But Brother Ancar's taken point in the search, and I trust his judgment. If you ask me, he'll likely end up the next Arch Priest. He'll find them, if anyone can.”

“Did anyone search the cells for clues?” the other guard asked. “Might be the prisoners left something behind. I'd have a look myself, even,” she continued wistfully.

“I'm not sure,” one of their group replied. “One of us could go back to Ancar and suggest it.”

Seeing his opportunity, Rune spoke up. “If you think it'll give us a clue, I say go. We'll stay here and keep watch in case they show up.”

“Yeah?” the guard answered, a note of excitement in her voice. “I'm on it, then. Come on,” she told her partner, “you know I have the sharpest eyes in the Order. If there's a clue there, I'll find it.”

“You've got a point,” the other guard replied. “I've got your back.”

The two went off down the corridor, and on the one hand, Rune was relieved to have two fewer adversaries around them, but also worried that they would find the stripped bodies and deduce that he and Sapphire were masked as well. They needed to either kill these last two, or else find a way to trick them as well.

The four of them stood at the ready, blocking the entrance, and Rune wracked his mind trying to figure out what to do next. They needed to hurry, or else risk giving themselves away.

Suddenly, Sapphire seemed to find the answer. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“What?” one of the others asked in a hushed voice.

“I think something's going on outside,” she said. “I thought I heard shouting.”

Rune smiled to himself, his pride in her surging again. “I think I heard it too,” he answered carefully.

“I don't hear anything,” the rightmost cultist observed. “Should we check it out?”

“We're supposed to be watching the entrance,” Rune cautioned. “The prisoners might still try to escape through here. You two stay and keep watch, and we'll find out what's going on.”

“Right,” the other two agreed, standing at attention once more while Rune and Sapphire opened the door and slipped away.

Emerging into the darkness of night was disorienting for them, as they had lost all sense of time after awakening in the temple. Still, they followed the corridor that circled at the base of the Tree Stone until they emerged from the ramp onto the landing around the stone. They ran up the stairs, ignoring the enthralled people who continued to work away at the temple, then descended back down to the valley below.

After having cleared the temple grounds, they hurried away to find cover nearby. Once they were hidden from sight, they quickly shed their cultist disguises, relieved to be rid of the garments. Rune couldn't help himself, and set his mask down onto the ground so that he could stomp his foot down hard onto it, leaving it with a long crack down the middle. The brief moment of violence felt cathartic for him, as he wanted nothing more than to destroy everything that the mask represented. Miraak may have been his father, but he and his followers were the reason his mother had died. And he would have seen every last one of them to Oblivion, if he could.

Stashing the distasteful apparel away among a cluster of low branches, Rune and Sapphire swiftly began making their way back to Raven Rock. If they could reach the Sun Stone again, they should be able to head west from there and easily find the town, even without their map, given that it had been missing from their belongings when they had retrieved them. They kept themselves hidden as much as possible while they traveled, sneaking from cover to cover until they were far enough away from the Temple of Miraak to feel safe from unseen eyes.

As they journeyed beneath the night sky, Rune found himself wistfully pondering everything that he had learned. He had his answers at last, but they were not happy ones, and he wondered whether he was truly better off knowing them. In a sense, his ignorance had protected him all these years, and even though he had now eliminated the head of Miraak's cult, who was to say that they would not reorganize and begin searching for him again? They knew who to look for now, if not where, and he didn't intend to spend the rest of his life running. Choosing to live as a thief had afforded him with a certain freedom, and it was not something he was willing to give up on.

“You're awfully quiet,” Sapphire eventually remarked once they had been traveling for a time. “You okay?” she asked, the concern in her tone no longer as foreign as it once would have seemed.

“I have a lot to think about, that's all,” he assured her. He would likely spend the rest of his days thinking about what had happened on Solstheim.

“Do you...” Sapphire began, hesitating, “do you regret coming here?”

Rune shook his head. “Honestly, I don't know,” he admitted. “It's a hard truth to accept, my past... but... in a way, there's still a comfort to knowing.”

“Because of your mother?” she asked softly.

“Yes...” he confirmed. “I think that knowing who she was, and that she loved me... that will stay with me. I hope that's the part of all this that will matter in the long run.”

Sapphire was silent for a moment. “Me too...” she quietly agreed when she spoke.

Silence fell between them again after that, but it was more contemplative than worrying. They soon saw the familiar silhouette of the Sun Stone looming in the distance, and turned their course to the west, charting their path towards Raven Rock.

The sun was rising by the time they spotted the Bulwark, with its gate leading into town. They had agreed while making their way here that they would head straight for the docks and book passage back to Skyrim, since it was only a matter of time before the Order set out in pursuit. Rune's only regret was that he couldn't take the time to say goodbye to Milore and Garyn. They had been so kind to him, and here he was disappearing without a word. He promised himself that he would write to them as soon as he could and tell them that he was alright, and had gone home. They deserved to know that, at least.

Boarding the _Northern Maiden_ , they found Captain Salt-Sage and insisted upon leaving for Windhelm right away, dumping all of their remaining coins and treasure into his hands when he hesitated. His initial protests forgotten, the captain began ordering the crew to set sail, to Rune's immense relief.

* * *

Once the vessel had safely set off from the Raven Rock docks and was swiftly cutting its way through the waves, Sapphire suggested that they retire below deck and get some rest. Once there, Rune sat down on a narrow cot that lined one wall of the small cabin. Sapphire watched him as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, letting out a wistful sigh.

“So... it's over then, I suppose,” he remarked, “Back to life as it was.”

Sapphire came and sat next to him on the cot. “I don't think that's going to be the case. Everything's different now... isn't it?”

Rune's eyes were still closed, and Sapphire took a moment to admire his profile; the straight line of his nose, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. Finally, he turned and looked at her.

“It is,” he agreed, his eyes reflecting hints of confusion and pain. Her heart clenched to see him hurting like this. “But I can't say I really know what to _do_ about it, is all.”

“What _can_ you do?” she gently challenged. “This is all fresh for you, but it's been decades since your mother died. And that sycophant Eiydas paid the price for it. You got your revenge.”

“Maybe...” he conceded, “but he wasn't the only one who wronged me, who wronged her. The bigger culprit in all this is my... my father.”

“Miraak?” Sapphire repeated, taken aback. “But from what Eiydas was saying, he's all but a god. How could you hope to go against him?”

“Not me,” Rune answered, shaking his head. “I'd never stand a chance. But I think I know someone who could handle him.”

Sapphire took a deep breath, unwilling to challenge him on this topic if it could give him some solace. “If you say so, Rune,” she settled on as a reply.

He turned himself on the cot to face her. “Sapphire... I'm sorry that I got you caught up in this mess,” he began with guilt in his eyes. “I roped you into helping me with the promise of there being coin in it for you, and here we are now... broke as two beggars.” He sighed loudly, “I'm sorry that you didn't get anything out of this trip.”

That was far from the truth, in her estimation, but she didn't know how to express that without admitting to some things she wasn't yet prepared let him know. “Well,” she began instead, “I suppose I did find my father, too...” She sighed at the thought of Glover. “I can't say I was happy to learn it at the time, but I suppose in retrospect I was the lucky one, in that regard.”

Rune chuckled wryly. “You don't envy me Miraak for a father? Can't say I blame you,” he continued, shaking his head. “I'd take Glover Mallory over him in a heartbeat. At least he cares about you. And, you know... isn't responsible for enslaving and murdering countless people,” he finished offhandedly.

Sapphire smirked despite herself. “You're not wrong, there,” she agreed.

His humor fading, Rune looked at her and ventured, “Have you reconsidered forgiving him?”

She pondered for a moment, thinking about the stark contrast between both their situations, and what Rune had said before about her trauma not being Glover's fault. She wasn't the type to forgive easily, she knew... but she was coming to recognize the part of herself that yearned to. What could her life be like with a father who loved her in it? Was holding onto her anger what she truly wanted to do?

“I think...” she murmured, “I think I just might.” Saying those words out loud, admitting that it was possible, she felt a trickle of warmth begin to blossom in her chest, and it soon suffused her so that she couldn't help the broad smile stretched across her lips.

She turned towards Rune. ''So, there you go,” she told him, emphasizing her words with a wave of her hand, “I did get something out of this trip after all.” She nudged her shoulder into his. “You're not the only one who got some closure about your past.”

Looking away from him for a moment lest she blush, Sapphire continued, “And you were good company, in the end. If I was going to be roped into going on an adventure, I'm glad it was with you.”

She heard him chuckle softly, and felt the heat in her cheeks betraying her. Damn it, she wasn't some silly girl to get all flustered because she was paying a handsome man a compliment! What must Rune think of her?

She needn't have worried, as his response was in kind. “I could say the same,” he assured her. “I think we make quite a good team.”

He leaned back against the wall again, letting his gaze wander up to the low ceiling. “I don't think I ever thanked you,” he remarked, “for our timely escape back there in the cell. If it hadn't been for your skill in getting free of those ropes, we'd both be dead right now.”

“I wasn't going to let that happen,” she assured him. “Besides, you seemed pretty worried about me when Eiydas gave the order to have me killed,” she teased him, her stomach fluttering with butterflies at the insinuation.

“I suppose I was,” he agreed with a smile. And... was he the one blushing now? It was hard to tell in this light, but the idea made her heart beat faster. “I do admit I was immensely relieved when you heroically leaped forward to save the day,” he taunted her in return. “I could have kissed you, in that moment,” he added with a chuckle.

Sapphire's pulse raced at his words, and she felt a pleasant twisting sensation low in her belly. She only hesitated for a moment, then took her courage in hand and said, “You could, you know,” without so much as a hint of sarcasm to her tone.

Rune turned his face and met her green eyes with his brown, surprise in his gaze and his lips slightly parted. For a moment, they both simply looked at one another, searching for confirmation of what they both were feeling. Then, like two magnetic poles drawn together, they were in each other's arms, their mouths meeting hungrily. Sapphire opened her lips to Rune's searching tongue, moaning softly as it slid against her own. By the Gods, she wanted this.

She'd long since found Rune pleasant to look at, but had been hesitant to become involved with anyone from the Guild, thinking that it would complicate things. That was why she'd always rejected Vipir's advances; the man wasn't bad-looking, certainly, but his coarse manner with her had left much to be desired. With everything she'd been through in her youth, she didn't want to let a fellow guild-member into her bed unless she felt she could truly trust him.

Rune had proven himself. He knew about her past, and didn't treat her differently because of it. He'd shown her that his charm wasn't just for show; he was genuinely kind and caring, and she admired him for that. They'd been through so much together in such a short time, and her budding attraction to him had very quickly grown into infatuation and desire.

Her introspection was interrupted as Rune tangled his fingers into her hair and drew his tongue down to trace the curve of her neck. The sensation sent goosebumps pebbling over her flesh, and she fisted his tunic with her hands, gripping him tightly against her.

A rising sense of urgency soon sent them scrambling to pull at their clothing, shedding the layers as quickly as they could manage. Rune's hands found her breasts and his tongue followed, and Sapphire's eyes fluttered closed as she took a moment to simply enjoy the attention he was lavishing on her. She felt her pulse racing throughout her body, particularly between her thighs, where a growing warmth and wetness drove her to finish pushing Rune's trousers past his hips.

She ran her hands admiringly over his bare chest, down his stomach, and lower still to grasp at his stiffening manhood. He let out a euphoric sigh as she stroked him firmly, then captured her mouth once more, kissing her senseless. They then lay back onto the cot, its surface barely wide enough to properly support their tangled limbs, but Sapphire couldn't bring herself to care. It was happening, and it was perfect.

With a bit of adjusting, their bodies came together, twin moans echoing from both of their throats at the moment of their physical union. In Sapphire's mind, there was no ship sailing the ocean, no cot digging into her shoulder, only Rune and the exquisite feeling of him inside her. She held his shoulders tightly, her legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging his efforts. He quickened his pace at her urging, and she rewarded him with a full-throated moan that rang loudly throughout the small cabin.

Sapphire arched her hips forward, clutching Rune's torso against hers. Even in this moment, joined together with him so intimately, she could not help but feel that she somehow wanted him even closer. She reached for his face, bringing it to meet with hers as she desperately kissed him, sucking at his lower lip and caressing his tongue. As much as she would have wanted to make this moment last, her lust was such that she found herself seeking release already.

“I want you to make me come,” she whispered into his ear, a flash of heat in her face and stomach following her bold words. Rune answered her suggestion with a fervent moan, as he shifted his position to better fulfill her request. He knelt between her thighs, bringing one hand to caress her just above where he was nestled inside her. He rubbed at her avidly, up and down, around in circles, with firm strokes and delicate flicks as he continued his rhythmic thrusting. Sapphire was losing her mind with pleasure.

It took only moments before she felt the tightening sensation begin in her loins, and her desperate moans of passion urged Rune's continued attention. The rhythm of his stroking and his thrusting became more frantic as his own pleasure chased hers, his moans encouraging hers and vice versa as their mounting ecstasy coiled tighter and tighter. Loud, lustful cries filled the air, accompanied by the dull slapping of flesh against flesh, faster and faster, until Sapphire could no longer hold back. She screamed with ecstasy as her climax came over her, her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut. Rune's release quickly followed, and he exhaled, groaning as he gripped her hips against his.

Slumping forward to rest upon her chest, Sapphire felt Rune's heart pounding against her skin. She could hear his labored breathing in her ear and her own sounding in counterpoint. As her euphoria slowly faded, she became dimly aware of other sounds around her; the splashing of waves against the ship's hull, the creaking of the mast, and heavy footsteps above deck accompanied by raucous laughter. Sapphire cringed.

Noticing, Rune lifted his head to look at her face. “Do you think they heard us?” she asked him, her eyes wide and her lips pressed tightly together.

He laughed softly and shrugged. “Maybe?” he ventured, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Do you care?” he asked.

Sapphire considered a moment, then answered, “Honestly? Gods, no – that was worth it.” She favored him with a wide grin.

Rune laughed heartily then leaned in to kiss her. She hummed in appreciation as she met his lips, laying her hand to the side of his face tenderly. This trip had truly been worthwhile after all, she thought to herself.


	15. Chapter 15

The rest of their journey seemed to fly by, and soon Rune and Sapphire found themselves walking back to Riften. Though he would need more time to work through his feelings about everything that had happened on Solstheim, Rune's anxiety and stress about the events had been relegated to the back of his mind ever since his liaison with Sapphire.

It had been an unexpected, yet decidedly welcome, distraction. They had enjoyed each other several more times during their time on the _Northern Maiden_ , and with each occurrence he had felt his worries forgotten in the face of Sapphire's passionate enthusiasm. He now allowed himself the indulgence of holding her hand as they traveled down the road that would lead them home, squeezing her fingers with his own every so often. He didn't know what kind of relationship they would have moving forward; whether they would not have any further romantic encounters, or if it might lead to something more long-term in their future. All he knew at the moment was that he couldn't keep from smiling.

“So,” he asked to strike up a conversation, “do you think we should work together again sometime?”

Sapphire nodded without hesitation. “Definitely,” she agreed. “Working alone has its advantages... but it does get lonely.” She squeezed his fingers and turned her face towards his with a bright smile. “I'll gladly join you for work, or play, whenever you like.” She momentarily released her grip on his hand to reach down and pat his behind fondly. Rune barked a laugh at the gesture.

“The offer stands on my end as well,” he assured her, his smile widening at the evidence of her continued interest. The good that had come out of their journey was almost starting to feel as if it could outweigh the bad. Almost.

As they approached the gates to Riften, Sapphire let go of his hand. He had suspected that she may prefer to keep the change in their relationship to themselves for the time being; he was willing to follow her lead on that front, and respect her wishes, whatever they happened to be.

After weeks of being away from the city, Rune found himself letting out a content sigh at being back. With all of the uncertainty he had faced while searching for his answers, it was nice to return to something stable and familiar. Though he suspected that Sapphire was right and that everything would be different from now on, still, he would hold on to those core things he had always known and been able to count on; the satisfaction and friendship that he had found in being part of the Thieves Guild.

As the two of them returned to the Guild's cistern, he happily greeted Niruin and Thrynn who asked whether he would sit and have a drink with them. He turned to Sapphire, to see whether she wanted join them, but she declined.

“I'd like to speak to Delvin first,” she said, a hint of a nervous tremble in her voice.

“Of course,” Rune nodded, understanding her intent.

Rune sat with his guild-mates, and Cynric soon showed up with mugs in hand. As they talked and drank, Rune decided to share with his friends some of what he had discovered. He felt that he wasn't ready to reveal all of the details yet, but he did tell them that he had at least learned who his parents were, and that his mother was dead, but he had met a lovely couple who had been friends of hers once. The three other men expressed how glad they were that he had finally found some closure, and wanted to know more about his trip. Rune hesitated, wondering how much he should divulge, when he looked up and saw Nayru Sevros entering from the opposite end of the cistern.

“Excuse me, lads,” he began, quickly finishing his drink and setting down the mug on the table. “There's something I need to do. We'll talk again later.”

They waved him off good-naturedly, and Rune rose to make his way over to Nayru. The dark elf paused and watched him as he approached.

“You're back,” she stated levelly. He hadn't realized she'd even been aware of his absence.

“You heard?” he asked.

“That you'd gone to Solstheim in search of your parents? Yes,” she confirmed. “Did you learn anything?”

“I did,” he answered, “and I have a job for you.”

She blinked, and he wondered whether that indicated surprise on her part. She was frustratingly hard to read, that one.

“You need something stolen?” she asked.

“No,” he replied, then lowered his voice to clarify, “your _other_ job.”

Hers brows rose slightly and the corner of her mouth quirked with the hint of a smile. It sent a chill up Rune's spine. “Who do you want killed?” she asked softly.

He held her gaze, and with bitterness imbuing his voice, uttered, “My father.”

* * *

After telling Nayru everything he knew about Miraak, she assured him that she would take care of his request. She had seemed interested from the start, but when he had mentioned what Eiydas had said about his father being the 'First Dragonborn', Nayru's eyes had widened slightly and she'd begun asking him for more details. From her, that likely signified that she was as eager as a fox in a hen house.

He admitted that he didn't have much in the way of coin at the moment, but would do his best to earn enough for her payment in short order. Surprisingly, the Dunmer shook her head, insisting that she didn't require compensation for this particular job. Rune couldn't imagine why, but when he asked, she only said that she had a stake in this as well, and that killing Miraak would be its own reward.

Shrugging, Rune agreed. Given that he didn't actually have the money, he was in no position to refuse her generosity. After concluding their business, he thanked Nayru again and then decided to check on Sapphire.

He made his way through the cistern and the dormitories until he reached the Ragged Flagon. There, he saw Sapphire seated with Delvin at a small table. The Breton looked to have tears in his eyes, and a crooked smile graced his features. Rune hung back, not wanting to interrupt, but it seemed as though their conversation was ending regardless, as they both rose. Delvin pulled Sapphire over to him in an embrace, and she laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around him. He squeezed her tightly, then as he let her go, raised his hand to her head and ruffled her hair lightly. Rune heard him happily mutter, “Can't believe I've got meself a niece!”

Sapphire sat down again as Delvin wandered away, her uncle humming a tune with a wide grin on his face. When she saw Rune standing not far away, Sapphire gestured for him to join her. He made his way to her table and sat down across from her.

“That seems to have gone well,” he observed with a smirk.

“It did,” she confirmed, her eyes shining. “It's strange to suddenly see someone I've known for so long in a different light, but I've always liked Delvin, so it's a welcome change.”

“He couldn't hope for a better niece,” Rune assured her, his hand itching to take hers on the table. He stopped himself; Sapphire would let him know if and when she was comfortable being open about their relationship around the rest of the Guild.

“I daresay he couldn't,” she agreed with a smug expression, and then a laugh.

“It's nice seeing you so happy,” Rune couldn't help but admit out loud. Sapphire was like a different person when she let her walls down, and she deserved that happiness.

She inhaled a deep breath. “It's nice to _be_ happy,” she concurred, a look of peace on her face. “It's funny,” she continued, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the tabletop, “I knew, somehow, that what was missing from my life was a sense of belonging to a family, and having a place to call home. And even though I did find my family, my father and my uncle... they're also part of the Guild. And even without them... the Guild is my family, too. This place is my home.”

Rune felt tears filling the corner of his eyes at her words. “I think I'm coming to that same realization,” he told her. “All this time I was so focused on knowing who my real parents were, and where I had come from... I couldn't see how much the Guild meant to me. It's my home too.”

Sapphire's fingers twitched, as though she wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she grasped at her mug instead, and raised it to her lips. After setting it down, she met his eyes.

“I'm sorry that the answers you found on Solstheim weren't as happy as you had hoped,” she said softly. “But if you at least have closure from knowing, and can be content with your life here... then I'm glad.”

Rune nodded slowly. “I think I will be,” he reflected. Or at least, he would have closure once Nayru had successfully taken care of Miraak, though he didn't mention that to Sapphire.

“So...” Sapphire ventured, “I guess we both needed to go somewhere else to appreciate what we had here all along?”

“Sounds like we did,” Rune agreed with a half-smile. He picked up Delvin's abandoned mug and sniffed at it. Mead. It would do. Holding it up, he declared, “To the Thieves Guild!”

Sapphire reached over to clink her mug against his with a warm smile. “Here, here,” she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the story pretty much wrapped up, as you can see. Only a couple of loose ends left that will be tied up in the epilogue. I'm kind of sad to see it ending! :(


	16. Epilogue

**_Six months later_ **

Standing on a small hill just south of the Tree Stone and the former Temple of Miraak, Rune held Sapphire's hand in his own as he took a deep breath to steady his voice. He gazed down at the bronze grave marker that Glover had made for him where it stood poking up from the ground. “Hello, Mother,” he softly began.

The grave contained no body, of course. All that would have been left of his mother at the moment of her death were ashes, and those had long since become lost within the dirt and dust of the temple where they had once both lived. But he had chosen to honor her memory near the place where she had died. Even though she had known a violent end, it had also been a triumphant one. And he thought that she might have appreciated being laid to rest in a place that reminded her of her life with her son.

“I came back here to tell you... to let you know that he's dead. Miraak is gone,” he whispered.

It had taken some time before Nayru had returned and told him that she had fulfilled his request. In the interim, he had found out who she really was; the Dragonborn of legend. He hadn't known what it meant, at first, but once he had learned Nayru's identity, he had done his research and now understood her connection with his father and why she would have wanted to eliminate him.

Since then, he'd heard of almost nothing else but her exploits. She had contributed to ending the civil war which had wracked Skyrim for years, and if that wasn't enough, she had defeated Alduin World-Eater; the First Dragon, who had threatened to destroy and reshape their world. It was strange to think of her as a hero; she certainly had the requisite skills, but her motivations often felt less than heroic. Nevertheless, he was endlessly grateful to her for more reasons than one.

Because of the pandemonium of a looming apocalypse, he hadn't been able to return to Solstheim for closure until now. Once it was safe again, he and Sapphire, along with Delvin, had decided to make the trip back together. It had afforded Glover the chance to see his daughter and brother again, and Rune had taken the opportunity to visit with Milore and Garyn. They'd been so grateful to him once he had filled them in on all of the details they had been missing about his mother's life, and it was a great relief to him to be able to tell them that he had avenged her memory.

And now, he stood before the symbol that represented that memory, and it was difficult to summon the words he wanted to say. He decided to stop thinking about it, and simply speak from his heart.

“I wish I remembered you...” he offered forlornly, “but even so... just from what I've learned, I want you to know... that I love you.

I know that you were brave. I know that you fought for me until the end. And I know that you loved me. And that's enough, Mother. That's more than enough.”

Sapphire squeezed his hand, and he heard her sniffle. _Don't start_ , he thought. If she wept, then he would surely follow; he'd be helpless to stop himself.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he continued pouring his heart out to his mother.

“I hope that you'd be proud of me. I'm a thief, so maybe that's a pipe dream... but I hope it all the same.

And I hope you'd approve of Sapphire,” he said, letting go of her hand to instead wrap his arm around her shoulders, “though, how could you not? I couldn't ask for a better woman in my life.”

He turned to face her, and she met his gaze with a watery smile. He hoped she recognized his words as the truth; it had taken some time, but the two of them had eventually decided to be together openly, and since then, waking up next to her every day had never failed to put a smile on his face. It had been hard on Vipir, at first, and Rune regretted the strain of his relationship with his friend, but eventually the other man had accepted it and given them his blessing. There had been no further animosity between them since then.

“It's strange to say it, but Mother, I...” he continued, “I _miss_ you. Maybe I miss the idea of you more than anything, but... it's true all the same.”

He sighed heavily. “In any case... I wanted you to know that I'm safe now. Eiydas is dead. My father is dead. The Order of Miraak has been destroyed. So... you don't need to worry about me.

And... and I'm happy. I truly am, Mother. I've found my place... my home... and my family. The only way my life could be more complete would be if you were in it.”

He knelt down in front of the grave marker, and ran his fingers along the inscription. _In Memory of Dominica Maecilius_ , it read, _Beloved Mother, Friend, and Hero_. He placed a soft kiss onto the cold metal surface, then rose sadly.

“Goodbye, Mother,” he whispered with tears in his eyes, “... I love you.”

Sapphire reached over to take his hand, and they began making their way back to Raven Rock, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to give huge credit to my partner on this story. Not only is he my sounding board for all things Elder Scrolls (he's been a fan of the series for much longer than I have, and we've had many discussions about lore where he's clarified things for me), but a lot of the ideas I've incorporated into this story were originally his. In fact, he was the one who suggested, when I mentioned that I wanted to write about Rune's past, that his birth had been the result of a cultist getting too close to Miraak, and that it would be a way to explain the runes on his stone, by making them Draconic. So I ran with the idea, and here we are!
> 
> He also gave me some tough love feedback on my first draft, which I was happy with at the time, but made me realize that there were some real issues with the pacing, which made the story feel rushed and everything seemed to happen too conveniently. So I bit the bullet and did a bunch of revising and rewriting, adding new chapters and new scenes, and the final result is much stronger for it. I'm so happy I didn't just post that original first draft!
> 
> I really am proud of this story. Not only is it the longest thing I've written to date, but it's also the most plot-focused work I've written as well. It still has a good mix of plot and character development, I think, but the fact that there's such a clear story here, rather than just events that allow characters to interact, is a big win for me too.
> 
> And big thanks to Lillianrill for sending me a story request in the first place! I'm glad that I was able to come up with a final result that I had fun writing and that you enjoyed reading as well! And, even now, I'm still so flattered that you liked my writing enough to ask me to write something for you in the first place :)


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